Turns in the Road
by cmar
Summary: PRTF. It's been a long road for Wes and Eric, with many turns along the way. Their story, from prep school to twenty years in the future. SPD crossover in later chapters. For PR Slash Write 22 romance challenge.
1. The Beginning

Wes, Eric, and all other characters from Power Rangers belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.  
Nick, Lina, and anyone else you don't recognize are mine.

Rated T: language, violence, sexual content including m/m sexual relationships.

**A/N:** This is a response to the Power Rangers Slash Write 22 challenge, a slash-oriented romance theme challenge. A link to the challenge site on LiveJournal is in my profile.

There are 22 themes in all, and I hope to do the entire set plus this short intro. This is based on my 'Red Fire' series, and will mention events from it as well as the TV show. You don't have to have read those stories, but it would help.

Reviews are always appreciated.

**Turns in the road**

* * *

The Beginning

- - -

"You ready for this?"

"No."

"There's still time to change your mind." Wes met Eric's quick look up with only a hint of anxiety in his face.

"I didn't say anything about changing my mind, did I?" Eric turned his attention back to his own reflection in the mirror and tugged impatiently at his tie. "Damn suit..." he muttered.

"No, but... Eric, listen." Wes reached for his shoulders and turned him so they faced each other. "Do you _want_ to do this? I mean - if you're just doing it because _I_ want it - that's not what it's supposed to be about, and we can leave right now."

"Yeah, right."

"I mean it. Sure, I'd like this, but I don't need it. We could walk right out of here and go home. No harm, no foul."

"You really wouldn't make my life hell for backing out?"

"No, I wouldn't." Wes's expression was sincere, but now there was disappointment lurking behind it.

Eric raised a hand for an affectionate touch to Wes's cheek before turning back to the mirror. "For your information, I make my own decisions," he said. "I'm here because I want to be."

"Are you sure?"

"Sure I'm sure. Since when have you ever talked me into anything?"

Wes was grinning now. "I can think of one or two times over the years."

"Oh, yeah? Like when?"

"Like back in school, when we first met. Remember that night we went out?"

"Yeah... But the only reason I let you drag me around was because I was so hot for you back then."

"And you're not hot for me now?"

"You know what I mean, wiseass."

Wes laughed. "Too bad I didn't know how you felt then, so I could take advantage."

Eric raised a brow. "You wouldn't have, though."

"I guess not. Anyway, that's not the only time. While we were fighting Ransik, I seem to remember you going through a certain change of attitude."

"I just got tired of kicking your butts all the time."

"Riiight... And at the end, when I got you to team up with me?"

"Caught me at a weak moment, that's all."

"Uh huh. Admit it, I've had an effect on you."

"Worked the other way around too. You've gone through a few changes yourself."

"Yeah, I've learned a lot from you." Wes chuckled and moved closer. "How to be a hardass in ten easy lessons."

"I don't think you've quite gotten the hang of that yet."

"That's why we're good together. You showed me how to work. I showed you how to have fun."

Eric smiled. "We _have_ made a pretty good team, haven't we?"

"A great team. As Rangers... Working together with the Guardians... All we've gone through over the years, with Dad, and Jen, Nick and Sky..." Wes's eyes were on Eric's, his smile soft this time. "And each other. But here we are."

They were touching now, hands clasped. "It's been a long road for us," Eric said.

"Sure has." Wes leaned forward to kiss him. "A long road... with a lot of turns along the way..."

TBC...


	2. Friendship

Wes, Eric, and all other characters from Power Rangers belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.  
Nick, Lina, and anyone else you don't recognize are mine.

Rated T: language, violence, sexual content including m/m sexual relationships.

**A/N:** This is a response to the Power Rangers Slash Write 22 challenge, a slash-oriented romance theme challenge. A link to the challenge site on LiveJournal is in my profile.

Reviews are always appreciated.

**Turns in the road**

* * *

Friendship

- - -

**_Silver Hills, 1991_**

"Eric! Eric, wait, hold up!" Wes's voice pursued him as he walked away. Eric didn't look back. "You know, I'm not going either!" the blond boy continued as he caught up. "So how about we find something else to do?"

Eric kept going, eyes straight ahead. There was no way he would show that he was hurt. Besides, he wasn't. Let the damn rich kids have their fancy parties on their fancy yachts. Not like he really wanted to go, anyway, even if he had been invited.

Wes was still talking. "Some of the kids here are so stuck up. Can't believe Marty would act like that, telling me I can't bring you to his stupid party... Well, who needs him? Tell you what, we'll go out tonight and have a great time, much better than any old party his dad would have. How about it?"

Eric finally looked at Wes, at his friendly smile, his bright blue eyes... With Wesley Collins' looks and his father's money, it was strange that he wasn't even more of a snob than the other kids in this prep school. Exactly why Wes seemed so determined to be friends with someone with no money and no family, Eric hadn't been able to figure out yet. He knew what he'd like the reason to be, that Wes felt the same attraction he did, but he was too realistic to let himself believe it wasn't just wishful thinking. He was also too aware of the consequences if he was wrong to dare trying to find out. That uncertainty had kept him at a distance from his new school acquaintance, despite the way Wes's face, and body, and those soft lips had begun to haunt his fantasies.

"I dunno," Eric said at last.

"Come on - all work and no play makes Eric a dull boy. Have some fun for once."

"Well... where do you want to go?"

"Out." Wes grinned. "Just be ready at - is nine okay?"

"What about curfew?"

"Forget curfew. I'll meet you at your room."

"But..."

"Come on. Don't wimp out on me; I'm counting on you."

Eric opened his mouth to say no, but seeing those eager eyes looking into his, imagining that smile fading into disappointment... And the prospect of spending time with Wes, outside school, just the two of them, was more temptation than he was prepared to resist. "Okay," he said.

"Great! Nine. Don't forget."

- - -

Wes was early. Only a few minutes, but still he found himself wondering why as he stood outside the door to Eric's dormitory room, debating whether to wait or just go ahead and knock. Being early was not something that came naturally to him, just the opposite in fact, but this time was different somehow. He'd been looking forward to this all afternoon. A chance to get off the school campus, to cut loose and have a good time after a week of classes.

And it was a chance to get to know Eric a little better. From the moment he had met the new scholarship student at their upscale prep school, he had been intrigued - whether by Eric's part-Asian face, his skill at martial arts, his obvious intelligence, the way he kept his distance from almost everyone else - or possibly the tinge of loneliness that always lurked around him - Wes wasn't quite sure. Maybe it was just the fact that they were so different, in almost every way. Or maybe just that Eric seemed to need a friend.

Whatever the reason, tonight he was going to make up for what that jerk Marty had done. They'd go out, and he'd show Eric the best time he had ever had. Wes raised his hand, and knocked.

The door opened to reveal Eric's face, eyes seeming to brighten slightly. "Uh... You're here," he said.

"Of course I'm here. You ready?"

"I guess." Eric shrugged awkwardly. "Is what I'm wearing okay?"

Wes glanced at his plain black t-shirt and jeans. "Sure. You look great."

"Thanks." Eric's eyes met his for a moment and then ducked away. "Where are we going?" he asked.

"Into town. There's a club I want to check out."

"Club? Uh... I don't have a lot of cash..."

Wes grinned. "Don't worry about it. I've got money."

Eric frowned. "Look, I don't need you to pay for me."

That prickly pride - one of the things he admired about Eric, but at the moment it was inconvenient. "I know. But look, I feel bad about what happened, so tonight's my treat. Okay?"

"I dunno... Can't we just go someplace that doesn't cost a lot?"

"How about if you run out of money, we'll figure it out later. Okay? Please?"

Eric hesitated, but finally he nodded. "Okay."

"Good. Let's go!"

- - -

They walked out into a cool spring night under a clear sky, leaving the lights of the dorm for the brighter ones ringing the parking lot. Eric followed Wes as he led the way to a new and expensive looking red car. "Nice wheels," he muttered, giving it an admiring and envious look.

"Thanks. My dad got it for me when I came here."

"Yeah, most of the kids here have cars."

Wes unlocked it. "Hop in."

"Are you allowed to drive at night? I mean, without an adult?"

"Yes, I'm allowed. Quit worrying about everything, will you?"

Somewhat to Eric's surprise, Wes turned out to be a good driver. His discomfort faded as they left the school and pulled into the evening traffic, headed for downtown. It was nice to be sitting here, in a cool-looking car, with the adventure of a night out ahead of them. Especially nice when the person beside him was Wes, flashing him another cheerful smile as they slowed for a red light.

"So - you still didn't say where we're going," Eric said.

"It's called _Unity_. You'll like it. Good music. We can check out the girls, dance a little, have a few drinks."

"Drinks?" Eric's unease returned. "In case you haven't noticed lately, we're only seventeen."

"Haven't you ever heard of a fake ID?"

"Well, yeah, but..."

"Relax, I've got it covered." Wes fumbled in his pocket and then held something out. "I already had one with my own name and picture. Had to improvise for you, but I know a few people. Found one with a picture that looks pretty much like you."

Eric examined it skeptically. It was a driver's license - a real one or an excellent copy as far as he could tell, with a picture of a dark-haired, square-jawed young man. He squinted to read the name. "Jesus. Do I look like a Harvey Moscowitz to you?"

"Do you look like an Eric Myers? I mean, it's possible, isn't it?"

"Well..." He might be able to pass as the kid in the picture, if it was dark, and no one looked too closely.

"Just memorize the birth date and address. Won't be any problem."

Before Eric could decide whether to argue, they were pulling into the parking lot of a large building with a flashing sign that announced it as their destination. He glimpsed a small group of people just outside - looking not much older than himself and Wes - maybe it would be all right. Too late to back out anyway, he reasoned, as the car came to a halt. Not to mention he didn't want Wes to think he was scared, or inexperienced, although both were true.

He felt his heart start to thump when a very large man at the door held out his hand with a brusque "IDs, please." Eric watched, trying not to sweat, as he took the license, examined it, and then looked up. "So you're six foot two," the bouncer growled.

"I... um..."

"Stand up straight, Er- uh, Harvey," Wes said, nudging him with an elbow and holding out his own card.

The man snorted derisively before handing the IDs back and gesturing inside. "Go on. And stay out of trouble."

"Yes, sir." Wes grinned, grabbed Eric's arm, shoved money at the cashier inside the door before he could protest, and pulled him inside.

It was noisy, that was his first impression. Noisy and bright and full of motion. Some song he didn't recognize was blaring deafeningly through the loudspeakers, crowds of people were dancing under flashing lights, more people were sitting at small tables scattered around the dance floor and clustered around two bars on opposite sides of the room.

Eric followed Wes again, this time to the edge of the mob of dancers. They stood for a few minutes, watching the gyrations. It looked like it could be fun... if you didn't go deaf. And if you were dancing with someone you really wanted to be with. He slid a sidelong look at Wes, who was smiling and tapping his foot. What would he say if Eric asked him to dance? What would all of those people do if they went out there together? If it was a slow dance... the two of them with their arms around each other...

"Great place, isn't it?" Wes shouted into his ear.

"Yeah, I guess."

"You like the music?"

"It's okay. Kinda loud."

"It's supposed to be loud; that's the whole point. Hey... Check it out!"

"What?"

"Over there."

Eric followed his gaze and spotted two girls, a blonde and a brunette, probably a few years older than themselves. "Yeah, so what?" he muttered.

"So... they're both hot, huh?"

"I guess."

"Let's ask them to dance."

Eric shook his head. "Nah. You go ahead. I'll stay here."

"Hey, I didn't bring you here so you could stand around. Besides, I don't want to go over there alone. Come on!" He took Eric's arm again.

Eric pulled away. "I said I don't want to."

"What do you mean? This is a club. We came here to dance and meet girls."

"Maybe _you_ did. Not me."

"What's the matter, you don't like girls?" Eric glanced at him sharply, eyes narrowing. "Okay, okay, just kidding," Wes said, raising his hands. "If you don't want to dance, fine. Let's get a drink."

"I dunno..."

"Hey, this is a bar, we gotta drink."

"You're gonna drink when you have to drive back?"

"Just a beer. Come on."

This time Eric let himself be led to the bar. "Uh... do you think he'll want to see my ID?" he asked.

"Nah, after you get in they don't usually hassle you." Wes gave him a closer look. "You haven't gone out to a lot of places like this, have you?"

"Not a lot." Eric glanced nervously at the bartender. "Well - actually never."

"Man." Whatever else Wes thought, all he said was, "I can get it if you want."

"No. You paid to get in. I'll do it." Without giving Wes another chance to argue Eric leaned over the counter, trying to catch the bartender's eye, nervously feeling for the fake ID in his pocket. To his relief, the man hardly looked at him, and a few minutes later they were wandering away, drinks in hand.

"Hey, look..." Wes nodded in the direction of a dark-haired girl standing alone at the edge of the dance floor.

Eric recognized her as one of the two they had seen before. He scanned the crowd for her blonde friend and spotted her nearby, dancing with a tall, thin man. "Yeah, I see them."

"Let's go talk to her."

"_You_ go if you want."

The brunette caught sight of them and smiled. Wes grinned and pointed at the dance floor. She smiled again and nodded. "Just one dance," Wes said. "Hang out, I'll be back in a minute." Without waiting for an answer, he handed his beer to Eric and walked away.

- - -

"_I'll be back in a minute,"_ Eric muttered savagely to himself. So far it was the longest _minute_ he had ever seen. Grumbling a curse to himself, he stood leaning against a wall, deafened by the music, bored, alone, feeling a decided buzz after draining Wes's beer along with his own, and most definitely not having a good time. No, his idea of fun did not include watching Wes out there with some girl, laughing, smiling at her, holding her in the slow dances... He glared at them, his gaze hot with envy and jealousy.

It had been more than an hour already. Impatiently, Eric stared across the room again, willing Wes to remember him. Maybe he should go right out there and drag him away. Maybe he should just leave, and let Wes wonder what had happened. Maybe then he'd be sorry... Just as he felt he couldn't take it for another second, Wes finally moved out of the crowd of dancers, stopped and turned to wave at the girl - to Eric's further irritation - and approached.

"Hey! You having a good time? Didn't see you dancing."

"That's because I don't want to," Eric said with a glare.

"Come on, lighten up. Let's get another beer."

"You have to drive, remember?"

"I didn't even finish the first one. By the time we leave I'll be fine."

"By the time we leave? How late do you want to stay?"

"A couple more hours, that's all."

"A couple more _hours_? What time are we going to get back?"

"I dunno." Wes shrugged, smiling with that cheerful grin that had started to become irritating. "Who cares when we get back? You got another date or something?"

"Yeah, I got a date with curfew! If we're not back by midnight we'll get in trouble!"

"So?" Wes's expression was starting to look annoyed now. "We're not going to get caught. Even if we do, so what?"

Eric jerked a thumb at himself. "Maybe you don't care about your record, but I do, and I'm not getting a mark against me just so you can hang out here meeting _girls_!"

"So you're going to chicken out just because you might get a mark on your perfect record?"

"Yeah, I guess I am! And this place sucks, anyway! I wanna get out of here, now!"

"Man!" The smile was gone now, as Wes stared at him, his voice angry. "I thought you might actually be fun to hang out with, but boy was I was wrong! Can't believe you're such a - a loser!"

Eric stabbed a hand in his pocket, found the fake ID, and threw it in Wes's direction. "You know, screw you. I'll get back on my own." He whirled and headed for the door, fists clenched.

Wes caught up to him outside, again grabbing his arm. "Jesus, Eric, will you wait a minute?" he demanded. Eric roughly twisted out of his grip and started for the sidewalk. "What the hell's wrong with you, anyway?"

Eric turned on him, the rage and disappointment he felt spilling over into a stream of angry words. "What's _wrong_ with me? The same thing all your stuck-up rich friends think is _wrong_ with me! I'm not like them, or like you! I'm here on a scholarship, and I have to make good grades, and I have to obey the rules, and I can't afford black marks or getting in trouble like the rest of you assholes who can go running to Daddy and have him pay someone off every time you mess up! What do you think's going to happen if I get caught coming in after curfew smelling like beer? I'll be out of here on my ass and - and..."

They were face to face now, uncomfortably close, Wes wincing a little as Eric poked a finger in his chest. For another moment they stood like that, until Eric muttered, "Forget it. You wouldn't understand," turned again and stalked off towards the street.

He was a block away, becoming aware that he didn't have the slightest idea if he was going in the right direction and starting to wonder whether he had enough money for a cab, when a car pulled over next to him. Wes's car. Eric kept walking, looking resolutely ahead, as it kept pace with him.

"Eric, come on. Get in, and I'll take you back to school."

"Go to hell."

"Not until after you get in the car."

"I don't need a ride. At least not from _you_."

"Oh, for..." He heard an exasperated sigh, even over the sounds of traffic. "Look, I brought you; I'll take you back. Kinda like a date, I guess." He grinned as Eric looked over at him. "I'm not going to go away, and it's going to look pretty funny if I keep following you like this."

"Why should I care? You're the one who looks funny."

"Come on? Please? I'll be your best friend."

The pleading note in Wes's voice sounded genuine - and the worst of Eric's anger had begun to fade. The thought came back to him of how he had imagined this evening going - the two of them hanging out someplace nice, and quiet, and private, finding out they had something in common after all. Discovering they could be friends, and more, much more. More evenings, more time together, the two of them touching, hugging, kissing...

But that would never happen, for several reasons. A sudden wave of sadness, the loss of a beautiful fantasy, drove everything else away - leaving him feeling empty and drained. He stopped, shoulders slumping, and then turned towards the car.

"Okay, fine. Whatever."

They rode back in gloomy silence. Eric was aware of Wes glancing at him, but stubbornly refused to meet his eyes. After what seemed like an eternity, they pulled back into Wes's spot in the dormitory parking lot and came to a stop.

"Thanks for the ride," Eric mumbled, reaching for the door.

"What's the hurry? There's still time before curfew. Hang out a little."

"Why? So you can tell me how I ruined everything, and what a loser I am?"

"No." Wes was quiet, waiting until Eric looked at him. Not enough light from the moon filtered in through the car windows to reveal much of his expression, but enough to reflect from blond hair and blue eyes, and to occasionally gleam from white teeth. "Look, I'm sorry things didn't work out. I really wanted you to have a good time tonight, and I thought you'd like doing the same stuff I like to do. I thought I was doing it for you - but I never asked what you wanted. That was stupid. I'm sorry."

With a stab of guilt, Eric remembered how Wes had insisted on paying, and tried to find a girl for him, and followed him out of the club... And how long had it taken him to find that fake ID? How much had it cost? All wasted. "No, I'm sorry," he muttered after a pause.

"You know - it's not my fault my dad is rich, just like it's not your fault your folks weren't. And it's not all wonderful, either. Why do you think I'm going to school here? Because my father's already decided I'm going to go into business, just like him, and he wants me to meet the 'right' people, from the 'right' families." Wes's eyes were downcast now, his voice low. "And because he doesn't have time for me. All he does is work... Half the time I feel like I'm just in the way."

Eric was watching him. After a pause he said quietly, "But at least you have a dad."

"Yeah, I guess."

Despite himself, Eric smiled a little. "Man, if he could see us now... I'm probably exactly his idea of the wrong kind of person for you to meet."

Wes gave him a sidelong look, his mouth starting to curve into a smile. "His worst nightmare."

"The kid from the wrong side of the tracks."

"And a terrible influence, dragging me out of bars and getting me to come back for curfew." Wes grinned. "Maybe I should bring you home to meet him sometime."

Eric snorted. "Yeah, right." He hesitated, feeling awkward as neither of them said anything more. "Well... I guess we should be getting back inside soon."

"I guess." There was another moment's pause before Wes asked, "So... friends?"

"If you want. Sure." To his surprise, Eric found himself returning Wes's bright smile as they got out. The evening had been worth it, he realized - the club, the argument, all of it - just for those last few minutes.

- - -

They stopped in the dorm hallway outside Eric's room. It was quiet, for a Friday night, only the faint sounds of music and a few voices drifting from behind closed doors. For the moment, they were alone.

"See you tomorrow in class, I guess," Wes said.

"Yeah." Eric paused, a hand on the doorknob. "Um... It's gonna sound weird, but I had a good time."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. Well, goodnight."

"Goodnight..."

For another few seconds they stood, close, eyes locked, neither looking away. _Strange,_ was all Wes could think, strange, as some inexplicable mixture of anxiety, anticipation, and confused excitement froze him to the spot... but the anxiety won. With a blink, he stepped back. Eric opened the door, gave him a quick nod, and disappeared inside, leaving only the empty click of the lock.

Wes shrugged and started for his own room. Must have been the strange way the evening had gone, up and down and then up again, and his relief that everything had turned out all right. That was all. What else could it be?

TBC...


	3. Hallways

Wes, Eric, and all other characters from Power Rangers belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.  
Nick, Lina, and anyone else you don't recognize are mine.

Rated T: language, violence, sexual content including m/m sexual relationships.

**A/N:** This is a response to the Power Rangers Slash Write 22 challenge, a slash-oriented romance theme challenge. A link to the challenge site on LiveJournal is in my profile.

Reviews are always appreciated.

**Turns in the Road**

* * *

Hallways

- - -

**_Silver Hills, 1992_**

The end of class.

Eric felt the corner of his mouth twitch at the thought. The end of class. The end of school. The end of his hopes for college, and the future he had thought he had a shot at. Muttering a curse under his breath as his locker failed to open, he impatiently worked the combination again. This time it took. He banged the door open, grabbed the pile of books inside and shoved them into his backpack.

A typewritten letter was sticking out of his chemistry textbook, and for a moment he was tempted to read it again - but what was the point? He knew exactly what it said; wasn't like it was going to change.

'_We regret to inform you...'_

They _regret_... Not as much as he regretted. Had they even thought about him when they cancelled the scholarship program right after the beginning of his last semester? About what he was supposed to do, where he was supposed to go? Off to another group home like they wanted, maybe worse than the last one? Go to some crummy public high school, probably where the kids were even worse than here? Hell no, not after the small taste he had gotten of a normal life, a _better_ life.

He'd rather hit the streets. And that looked like his only option right now. Take the small amount of money he had saved up from various odd jobs and cash in the train ticket that had come with the letter, and find some way to survive until he could get his GED and enlist in the Army.

Slamming the locker door shut, he turned to leave - and found Wes staring at him from a classroom doorway across the hall. That was the one thing that was good about getting out of this place: getting away from the walking reminder of his own frustration, disappointment, and stupidity that was Wesley Collins.

- - -

Wes was greeting a couple of friends when he heard the violent slam of a locker door, looked for the source of the discordant sound - and met the dark and angry gaze of Eric Myers. It only lasted for an instant before Eric, his face harsh and closed, took off down the hall. Wes watched his retreating back until he turned a corner, feeling a sharp stab of regret and the tickle of guilt underneath it. How had things managed to fall apart so quickly and completely? Was it his fault? Eric's? Both? Neither?

"_Come on, Eric. Please?"_

It had happened only a couple of months ago, when he'd been trying to get Eric out of his shell again by getting him to go to a party in one of the guys' rooms. Somehow the invitation had turned into a playful tug of war over a textbook. They had both been laughing, and then they were suddenly leaning towards each other, faces only inches apart. He had felt that odd mix of fear and eagerness again, that excitement, as Eric's lips came closer...

If they hadn't been interrupted - what? What would have happened? He didn't want to know, didn't even want to think about it. Instead, he had begun to avoid the places where they usually met, and to look the other way as he saw bitterness begin to replace the cautious friendliness in Eric's face.

Friendliness. Yes, they had been friends. Why exactly had he turned his back on that? Whatever Eric had tried to do - was it so terrible? Whatever Wes felt about it - they were supposed to be friends. Wasn't that more important than any amount of embarrassment or awkwardness? Eric had looked so angry just now, so upset - was that the reason, that the one friend he had made here had let him down?

Maybe it was time to do something about it, if it wasn't too late. Resolutely, Wes squared his shoulders and started down the hall.

- - -

Eric paused at the end of the hallway, looking through the glass doors at the world outside. Somehow that last step through the door was hard to take. It was the last step he would take as a student in this place that had almost started to seem like home. Now, just like every home he had ever known, he was about to leave it behind.

And leaving Wes behind - that would be good - bad - painful. He would be leaving behind the mistake he had made, but also any chance to make it right.

All the months they had been friends, ruined in an instant on that evening when they had found themselves alone in a dorm study room, with Wes being his usual outgoing, cheerful, friendly, and unreasonably attractive self. Only a moment of weakness and longing, of forgetting that Wes was straight and wouldn't want him, and would run the other way, and would hate him... And it had all happened, all because of that one moment when Eric had thought he saw something in Wes's eyes. Something that said his dreams of a kiss, a touch, could come true. And he had been stupid enough to believe that feeling, and to try.

But it didn't matter anymore. He made up his mind to put Wes firmly in the past, along with this school, and start thinking about the future. No goodbyes; what would be the point? No complaints. He hadn't told anyone why he was leaving and didn't intend to. No way he would let any of these jerks feel sorry for him. And why should they? This wasn't going to stop Eric Myers. All the disappointments, the defeats, the obstacles; they didn't matter. Someday he'd be back, stronger than ever.

- - -

Wes hesitated for a moment. Eric was standing just inside the doors, his back tense and his head bowed. As Wes watched, Eric straightened, pulled off his school uniform jacket, swung it over his shoulder, and shoved through the door. He took a step to follow.

"Hey, Wes!"

Glancing behind him, Wes saw one of his friends from class coming down the hall. He frowned. "Yeah?"

"I guess that's the last we'll see of Myers. No loss."

"What do you mean?"

"Haven't you heard?" He smirked. "He's leaving. Dropping out."

"Dropping out? Why?"

"Hell if I know. Maybe he finally caught on that he doesn't belong-"

Wes didn't wait to hear the rest, just threw him an angry glare and ran through the doors. "Eric, hey, wait up!" he called, and trotted down the steps to catch up, blinking in the sudden brightness of the afternoon sun. "You're _quitting_?" he demanded, some part of him hoping to hear a denial.

Eric stopped and looked back at him, his face hard and cold. "This place stinks! Bunch of lazy rich kids wasting their time." He sneered. "I got bigger plans." Lifting the backpack he was carrying, he shoved it into Wes's hands. Turned, and started for the front gates.

"Eric!" Wes waited, but there was no response, not even a look back. He watched until a building blocked Eric from his view, surprised at his own keen sense of loss, as if someone very important to him had just walked out of his life, probably forever.

- - -

TBC...


	4. Obsessive

Wes, Eric, and all other characters from Power Rangers belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.  
Nick, Lina, and anyone else you don't recognize are mine.

Rated T: language, violence, sexual content including m/m sexual relationships.

**A/N:** This is a response to the Power Rangers Slash Write 22 challenge, a slash-oriented romance theme challenge. A link to the challenge site on LiveJournal is in my profile.

Reviews are always appreciated.

**Turns in the Road**

* * *

Obsessive

- - -

**_Silver Hills, 2001_**

Leaving home was supposed to be a good thing. Exciting, happy, full of plans and expectations. Not when it happened like this. True, there was the prospect of a better future, leaving behind a life he had never really wanted, but right now most of what he felt was depressed, sad, even a little scared.

Wes Collins looked around his room one more time. In this first quiet moment after a long and eventful day, it was only now starting to sink in. He was leaving the home he had grown up in, the room he had spent almost all of his life in, the house where his father lived. Philips, who was almost like a second father. The few dim memories he had of his mother.

But what choice did he have? How could he keep on living here when his father still treated him like an untrustworthy child? And after tonight - Wes frowned at the uncomfortable memory of what had happened that day. What he had done hadn't been exactly honest, taking that money and using it for ransom, but it wasn't like he had done it just to get back at Dad. No, nothing like that; there just hadn't been any other way, not if he wanted to save those kidnapped kids. He had returned the money, but still his father had been furious.

No, it just wouldn't work any longer. Not now; not when he had something much more important to do with his life than be in training to take over Bio-Lab someday. Wes raised his arm and studied the large oval device strapped to his wrist. His morpher. He had struggled to win it, to keep it, to prove he was worthy of being the red Ranger and being on Jen's team. It had been the first really difficult thing he had done in his life; and the first really important thing, the first thing that was about other people, not just himself and his father - and it felt good.

Thanks to Jen. Trip, Lucas, and Katie too, of course, but mostly Jen. From the moment they had met he had admired her. She was pretty, of course, but that was only part of it. She was also strong, determined, and so focused - all the things Wes knew he was not. But maybe he'd get there someday, with her help.

With that thought, Wes closed the duffle bag he had stuffed the most important of his belongings into, and again surveyed the room. Had he forgotten anything? Clothes, a little money, his toothbrush and shaving kit. He took a few steps to the closet for a last glance inside, and stopped as his eyes fell on an old, dusty backpack lying discarded on the floor in the back, only visible because he had pulled out most of the clutter which had covered it. After a moment's hesitation, he bent to pick it up.

It had been a long time... A little over nine years now, since Eric had handed him this same backpack and gone walking off. Nine long years. Yet suddenly Wes was back in that schoolyard, the sun in his eyes as he watched his former friend disappear. Strange, how clear and sharp the memory still was, with all its regrets.

_If only I'd gone after him. Asked him to keep in touch, write, call, something, just so I know he's all right._ But Eric wouldn't have. No, he probably would have laughed at the idea. By that time they hadn't even been friends anymore.

The thought brought Wes another, more disturbing memory, of the strange feeling he had gotten around Eric, a feeling that still returned sometimes if he wasn't on guard against it, when he saw a good-looking man - especially one with black hair and Asian eyes. Not that it meant anything. There had been girls, a few of them, in college and after, but he had just never met the right one... until now.

He pushed the image of a harsh male face from his mind and replaced it with softer, feminine features, framed in brown hair. Jen's face. She was the one he should be thinking about now. After tonight, hopefully, he'd be spending a lot more time with her - and with Lucas, Trip, and Katie, of course - as well as fighting by their sides when there was a crisis. That was where his future lay. No way he was going to waste time regretting the past or getting all obsessive over a man he hadn't seen since he was a kid and would probably never see again.

Wes shook his head in disgust. Why was he even thinking about this? Abruptly he tossed the backpack back into the closet. Not like Eric ever thought about _him_, after all.

- - -

**_New York, 2001_**

"Aren't you excited?"

"Sure I'm excited." Eric smiled before kissing him again. "Can't you tell?"

"That's not what I mean." Nick chuckled, his hands sliding down Eric's bare back to pull their bodies closer together on the hotel room bed. "I mean about tomorrow."

"Tomorrow... I guess."

"You guess? You're getting out of the Army after nine years, and all you can say is 'I guess'?"

"Sorry to disappoint you." Eric ran his tongue behind Nick's ear.

"Cut that out, you know it drives me crazy..."

"Yeah, that's kinda the point."

"We should talk."

"Mmm?" Eric moved lower, kissing his way over Nick's throat. "'bout what?"

"You know, about what you're going to do now, after you're out."

"I'm a big boy; I can take care of myself."

Nick grinned. "You're a big boy, all right... Come on, stop that... Where are you going to live? Where are you going to work? What happens when I get out too? What about-"

"Not now." Eric silenced him with another kiss, moved a hand between them, and reached down. To his relief, there was no more talk.

An hour later Eric opened his eyes to the ceiling of a darkened room, listening to the soft sound of Nick's breathing, unsure of why he wasn't sleeping himself. Must be the sounds of traffic which were so different from the silence of his room on the base. Or the feel of the big, overly soft bed. Or maybe it was the fact of sharing that bed. Despite their nearly year-long affair, he and Nick had never spent an entire night together before.

Would it happen again? It would if he wanted it, Eric knew that. If Nick had his way they'd be together every night. That was the problem; they wanted very different things from each other. Nick was a nice guy, but when Eric allowed himself to think about it he knew he was not in love and never would be. Not with Nick, anyway.

It was inevitable they would split up, and the letter Eric had gotten that morning in answer to a job application only meant it would happen sooner rather than later. In two weeks he would be back in Silver Hills while Nick would stay here to serve the last six months of his enlistment. The separation didn't have to be permanent, but deep in his gut Eric knew it would be. Better that way, trying to stay together would only make both of them unhappy.

He turned onto his side, propping himself on an elbow. Dim light filtered in through thin curtains over the windows, enough for him to make out Nick's face turned slightly towards him, soft and youthful in sleep. He could almost pass for the seventeen-year-old blond prep school student Eric had known nine long years ago... Tonight, it was so easy to see the resemblance that had first attracted him.

_Wes._ Eric frowned slightly, but he knew exactly why he was thinking about his former high school friend. The letter he had gotten was from Bio-Lab, the company Wes's father owned. The job he had been offered was in Silver Hills, as a member of a new elite private security force formed to combat the attacks that had been going on there recently. A perfect job for someone of Eric's background and temperament - as a soldier in a good cause, in an organization small enough for him to have some hope of being recognized, and promoted, and becoming important and successful.

Too bad it was in Silver Hills, the place that held so many memories for him. Or was it a bad thing? A part of him wanted to return, this time as an adult who could consider himself the equal of any of them. Let those kids from prep school try to look down on him now; he'd show them.

Yes, there was the chance he'd run into Wes again. Maybe even find himself working with him, if Wes had gone into the career at Bio-Lab his father wanted for him. Would that be a problem? Would Wes remember that almost-attempted kiss from more than nine years ago, and turn away from him again? Maybe even say something to his father? No, Wes wasn't like that. Or at least he hadn't been back in school. By now, who knows? People change.

Eric rolled onto his back again, looking up at the ceiling. No point in worrying about something that might never happen. First, finally face Nick and make sure he knew it was over. Better for both of them. Then the move back to Silver Hills, the new job, and whatever challenges and opportunities it would bring.

The image of Wes's face floated to the top of his mind again, and just as quickly was shoved back into the past where it belonged. This wasn't school; Eric was no longer a kid imagining himself in love for the first time. No more obsessing over a teenage crush, a man he might never even see again. Not like Wes ever thought about _him_, after all.

- - -

TBC...


	5. Bits and Pieces 'dream'

Wes, Eric, and all other characters from Power Rangers belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.  
Nick, Lina, and anyone else you don't recognize are mine.

Rated T: language, violence, sexual content including m/m sexual relationships.

**A/N:** This is a response to the Power Rangers Slash Write 22 challenge, a slash-oriented romance theme challenge. A link to the challenge site on LiveJournal is in my profile.

This started as a quick chapter just to cover the events of the series, but as you can see, the tale grew in the telling. Several scenes are from the show, one is from my story 'Red Fire'.

Reviews are always appreciated.

**Turns in the Road**

* * *

Bits and Pieces

- - -

"_Thank God you found us!" _

"_Are you all right, sir? What happened?" _

"_Cyclobots, a lot of them... He was hit by a blaster shot." _

"_Commander Myers! Can you hear me? Can you hear me?"_

- - -

"Myers! Did you hear me? What the hell were you doing?"

"Sorry, sir," I muttered, and slid into my place in the black SUV as quickly as I could. Our first time in action, and I had managed to get yelled at by my C.O. One more thing to blame Wes for.

I kept my eyes straight ahead as we moved out, leaving the store parking lot to head back to Bio-Lab. I certainly wasn't trying to look but I couldn't help catching a glimpse as we passed him, still standing in the same spot with his new friends. Wesley Collins. A little older and more mature, but still as good-looking as ever, maybe more. Not that I cared. Sometimes over the last nine years I had wondered about him: what his life was like, how different it was from mine, whether it had changed him as much as my life in the Army had changed me. And ever since I had taken this job working for his father's company, I had known there was a good chance I'd find out.

However I had pictured our meeting again, it hadn't been anything like this. I'd expected to find him sitting in a corner office at his daddy's company, turned into a real three-piece suit of a guy and all settled into his role as heir apparent. I'd even wondered whether being an old friend of the boss's son would buy me a little advantage - or turn out to be a problem, if he remembered the wrong things about our school days.

But it looked like neither of those things was going to happen. When they talked about Wesley Collins around here it was usually with a smirk, and an eye out to make sure the boss wasn't close enough to hear. Apparently the rumors were true. Wes had ditched the company, and his father. The kid I knew in school, who had nothing much on his mind besides the fastest way to have a good time, had actually chosen the harder path for once. For a moment I almost admired him. Until I remembered all that money, and all the power he would never use, and realized he was just stupid.

_Maybe you were right the first time. And either way, did you have to be so rude?_

He hadn't even recognized me until I took off my sunglasses. And when he did - sure, he had smiled and held out his hand, but not before I saw the half-second of startled dismay that made me reject that handshake.

_It's been more than nine years. You've changed. And you're just about the last person he expected to see._

Bullshit. I had known him at first glance, despite nine years and those overalls he was wearing, across a parking lot and in the middle of a fight. But why should I care, anyway? I wasn't a kid with a crush any more, and Wes was no longer the same guy I'd had that crush on. Now, he was just someone I used to know. I didn't care. Not at all.

_Sure you didn't._

- - -

"_No time to wait for an ambulance. They're having trouble getting through the streets anyway. Get him in the car; we'll take him ourselves." _

"_Right. Careful, watch his head... Okay, let's go."_

- - -

A brilliant flare of light faded, and the box I had risked my life to hold on to disappeared with it. I stared at what had replaced it: a red and black device on a strap encircling my wrist. Like the one Wes wore - and somehow I knew without a doubt what its purpose was.

I had been chosen.

Eric Myers, the guy who had never caught a break without fighting for it longer and harder than anyone else. Eric Myers, who struggled every day just to get a little respect from people like Mr. Collins. Finally it had happened: that one stroke of luck, the kind of opportunity that might never come again, my chance to prove that I could be better than any of them.

"This is not about _us_! Please, don't do it!" Wes shouted from a few yards away, where he lay too battered and exhausted from our battle with a horde of cyclobots to be able to stop me.

He was right about one thing. This wasn't about us, not anymore. There was no way I wasn't going to grab that chance and run with it, in spite of Wes. If a lazy, thoughtless rich kid who had never worked hard a day in his life could be a Ranger, why couldn't I? I deserved it more. Much more.

_Right, it wasn't about him at all. Why all the hostility? What did Wes ever do to you, except try to be your friend?_

He had tried to stop me, to take this away from me. But it was too late. With a triumphant smile I raised the morpher and said the words for the first time.

"Quantum Power!"

There's no way to describe what I felt then. A rush of strength and energy like nothing I had ever experienced before, better than money, better than winning, better than sex, better than anything. Filled with the power and needing to use it, I heard the sounds of a fight outside and went to face my first enemy as the Quantum Ranger.

Wes managed to get out and find his friends in time to see the show. For a moment I wondered what they were thinking as they watched me take out the mutant who had been kicking all their asses combined. I know what they should have been thinking - that they were glad I was on their side.

_Or that power corrupts?_

I took care of their problem for them, not that they thanked me for it. We stood there, the five of them and me, trying to stare each other down. And then, Wes stepped forward and said something strange.

"Eric, are you all right?"

Wasn't it obvious? I had won - I had the power - my life would never be the same, all the frustrations and disappointments left behind, and he's asking if I'm 'all right'? Can't he see? Is he stupid or something?

_Or maybe he sees something you don't._

Ridiculous. I smiled again, inside my helmet, and told him just how wrong he was.

"Never been better."

- - -

"_Okay, get him out... careful..." _

"_Where's a stretcher, dammit!" _

"_Sir, there's casualties coming in from the whole city. The hospital's swamped. We'll carry him in." _

"_Good. And I'm getting a doctor if I have to drag one out of an operating room."_

- - -

"Wes!"

I shouted his name as I saw him fall, his body turning in a lazy spin, head over heels, getting smaller as he got closer to the ground. For a moment horror froze me, and almost cost me my own life.

Just as I thought I glimpsed the flash of a morph before he hit the ground, a rumbling growl reminded me I was in imminent danger of becoming a dinosaur's lunch. I turned around to see it coming after me, a mouth big enough to swallow a man whole gaping wide, bristling with rows of large and ugly teeth.

They say your life flashes before your eyes when you're about to die. Maybe my life isn't worth seeing, because all that went through my mind was ways to get out of this mess. Ranger up and fight it? Not enough energy in my morpher. Jump off the cliff and try to morph just before hitting the ground, the way I hoped Wes had? Too risky. Only one real possibility, as my eyes found the dark opening of a cave in the hill behind the dinosaur.

I ran like I've never run before, between those massive legs, expecting its jaws to close on me at any moment. Made it, got halfway to the cave in the time it could turn its bulk around, but then it had the advantage, one stride as long as five of mine, and whoever thinks dinosaurs were slow is crazy! I flung myself into the cave just in time, yelling in terror as it came after me, trying to push its head inside and get me. Breathless, I squirmed as far back as I could, pressed up against dank, cold earth and stone.

It seemed like forever that I sat there with death snapping inches from my feet. But finally it gave up and pulled its head out. I heard heavy footsteps pacing impatiently outside. After another eternity, they faded away.

I was saved from having to take the risk of going back out when my hand pressed against the cave wall as I tried to get up, and broke through. There was more cave beyond, a lot more. With a nervous glance back towards the possibly dinosaur-infested cliffside, I pulled out my flashlight and decided to explore, and maybe find a safer way out.

- - -

"_What happened to him?" _

"_Blasted by a cyclobot." _

"_We've been getting a lot of blaster victims. No effective way to treat them, just general support, hope they get better." _

"_I understand, Doctor. Just do your best." _

"_We will. But don't get your hopes up too much."_

- - -

No sign of him. I stopped for a moment of rest, and looked up at the cliff where I had been an hour ago. Wes would have landed somewhere around here. I had found a spot where a few tree branches had been broken very recently, but nothing else. Too much ground cover for footprints. I cursed myself for never having trained in tracking. Still, no news was good news; at least I hadn't found a body or bloodstains.

What next? I turned to look in the other direction, up at the peak of the volcano where those mysterious cave drawings had told me I could find the Quantasaurus Rex. Find the Q-Rex, and find the mutant we had followed through a timehole into the distant past, and find a way to get out of here.

_What about Wes? He was pushed off that cliff trying to save you. If he's hurt, or dead, it's your fault for bringing him here._

No! It's all his own fault. No one asked him to jump on the Eagle and come with me. I told him I didn't need help. Besides - besides, he's a Ranger, and there was no sign of a body. He's okay, he must be okay. I'll find him, and we'll get back home. Somehow.

- - -

"_Wes..." _

"_Doctor! He's conscious!" _

"_Wes... Where is he...?" _

"_He's asking about my son. I don't... I don't know where Wes is. I just hope-" _

"_He's fading again..."_

- - -

Great, another cave. Maybe the last one had saved my life, but I had no taste for picking my way through dark, cold caverns, expecting something to jump out at me at any moment. But the drawing I had found had told me this mountain was where I would find the Q-Rex, and this cave was the only place big enough to hide it.

As I started through the last patch of trees, I saw a flash of red, headed in the same direction. I stopped, my heart leaping as I recognized it - Wes - Wes, alive and apparently well. I took another step, pulled in a breath to call to him...

And then I stopped. What was he doing? He was about to go into the cave, and there could be only one thing he wanted there. The Q-Rex. He was trying to take the Q-Rex, the zord that belonged to _me_, trying to take it away the same way he and his friends wanted to take the morpher away. That was the real reason he had come along, just to keep me from claiming what was mine.

With a quick gesture and a quiet word, I morphed and drew the Defender, and stopped him with a blast across his path.

He jumped and turned. "Eric?"

"Just hold it right there." I shifted my aim to his chest. "Tell me, where do you think you're going?"

"That mutant's in there! I've got to stop him before he gets to the Quantasaurus Rex!"

Did he think I was enough of an idiot to believe him? "You're not going anywhere. Q-Rex is mine!"

He started for the cave entrance again, moving faster this time. "Listen, he's going to be Ransik's if we don't get in there and-"

I had stopped listening. Lucky for him, I only fired at the ground at his feet and then charged, converting my blaster to sword mode, wanting to fight him in this more personal way, not at a distance with blasters but man to man. He blocked me a few times, but it was as if he wasn't even trying, while I had my anger to urge me on. It didn't take long for me to get the advantage, and in only a few minutes I had forced him to his knees.

_He just wants to stop Commandocon and Ransik from getting control of the Q-Rex. He doesn't want to fight you._

Then he's a fool as well as a weakling. I turned the Defender back into a blaster and pointed it at his face, and laughed at him and his pathetic attempts to defeat me and take what was mine. As if Wes Collins could ever beat me, or even slow me down. Then a noise made me look up - and I realized the mistake I had made. While we had been fighting, Commandocon had been taking the Q-Rex. The dark swirl of a timehole appeared in the sky, and I saw them streaking up, and into it.

With a curse, I shoved Wes away and started running back to where we had left the Eagle, even as the volcano seemed to react to the distortion of time with a deep rumble and a burst of dust and smoke. I staggered, but kept going, feeling the earth begin to quake and shift under my feet. Wes shouted my name, but I didn't pay attention. I had to get up to that timehole _now_, and running was useless - I raised the morpher and called the Eagle, seeing it appear only a split-second later and lower to where I could leap aboard.

As I slid into the cockpit I saw Wes, cut off by a chasm that had opened in the ground before him. "Eric! No!" he shouted.

The timehole wouldn't last long. I had no time for him. This was his fault, anyway; if he hadn't distracted me I could have stopped Commandocon from getting the Q-Rex. He deserved whatever he got. I raised a hand in a mocking salute and shouted, "See ya, Wes!" and took off, ignoring another anguished cry from him.

_You really were a bastard, weren't you?_

Shut up. I took off, and headed up. Wes would be all right. His Ranger pals would know how to find him. They'd bring him back.

_And what if they can't?_

Then I made the mistake of looking down, and saw the whole area turning into a mass of cracks in the ground, everything moving, collapsing, crumbling, the red glow of lava underneath swallowing up the earth. And Wes, trying to keep his balance, staggering and then falling, sliding into one of those gaping holes...

Without even thinking, I turned the Eagle down and dove after him, heart pounding as his struggling form got nearer, but could I catch him in time, and then I popped the cockpit bubble and reached out, grabbing his hand and holding on tight as the little aircraft carried us out of danger.

He looked up. I couldn't see his face, but his voice was warm as he said, "Eric, thanks!"

"I saved your neck. Now we're even," I muttered as I pulled him up to the wing, just to let him know that's all it was, just paying a debt for the times he had saved me.

_After the way you acted, after the way you almost stranded him to die, he still thanks you._

Yeah, well. What an idiot.

_Are you talking about him or yourself?_

Shut up.

- - -

"_The emergency rooms are all taken... We're swamped, too many injuries..." _

"_Do something! He needs help!" _

"_Bring him in here. We'll double up."_

- - -

"I came here for the morpher."

Wes looked more serious, more determined, and more dangerous than I had ever seen him before as we faced each other in a deserted storage yard behind Bio-Lab. It didn't matter. I was more of all of those things, especially dangerous. No matter how much he wanted to keep me in my place, safely inferior to him, he was about to find out that this time things weren't going to go his way.

"You want to save the city?" I said, raising my wrist. "You're going to have to take it from me."

"If that's the way it has to be," Wes said, with no sign of fear or reluctance.

In a double flash we were morphed, and charging at each other; hitting hard and for keeps, no mercy asked or given. We had fought over the Q-Rex on the side of that prehistoric volcano, but that had only been a scuffle compared to this. This time Wes was uninjured. And he was angry. He was fighting for real, and he was a more skillful and determined opponent than I had given him credit for. Grudgingly, I felt a spark of respect.

And then - when we had succeeded in knocking each other down, he made another attempt to persuade me. "Eric, listen, we don't have much time left!"

"You mean _you_ don't!"

"This isn't about _me_!"

"It's always been about you!"

_Finally, you're saying something honest._

I meant it was about his attitude, his superiority, about every stuck-up rich kid at that prep school who had looked down on me and every jerk in a business suit who had ignored me. It was about his father's money, and about the Commander's job that Wes didn't want, but I did, but it had been offered to him just because of who he is while I would have to fight for it, like I still had to fight for everything. It was about all the things he had that I wanted.

_And all that is Wes's fault exactly why?_

I don't know. But it is.

_You've forgotten one more thing you want that Wes has. The thing you really can't forgive him for._

What's that?

_Himself. You want him._

Me, want Wes? Like the idiot school kid I used to be? No way.

- - -

"_I'm sorry, sir, you'll have to stay outside." _

"_But I want to know what's going on. I want to help." _

"_Then notify his family. They should be here." _

"_He has no family. Just us."_

- - -

Falling - I had been falling. I thought I heard Wes's voice, calling my name as if he really cared what happened to me, just before I hit the water. I could remember the burning in my lungs, the struggle to reach the surface with the swift, cold river current sucking me down. And then someone had taken my hand and pulled me back...

I was wet, and chilled, and what felt like pebbles were digging into my back. With a start I opened my eyes. The first thing I saw was the clear blue sky above. The second was the clear brown eyes of the pretty young woman who was leaning over me, hand outstretched, bathing my forehead with a scrap of wet cloth.

My reaction was instinctive. "I don't need your help!" I exclaimed, pushing her hand away and sitting up too fast, wincing as my arm twinged with pain.

"Obviously you do," she snapped right back as I lurched to my feet. "You would've drowned in the river if I hadn't pulled you out."

"If you think I'm going to thank you, you're wrong," I said, still inspecting my injuries. Besides the blaster burn on my arm, I had a few cuts and bruises. Nothing serious. I was more worried about my morpher, and what Conwing was going to do with it and the Q-Rex.

The girl - Jen, I remembered - was still talking, her voice angry. "What's your problem? We're not your enemies."

"You're not my friends, either."

"That's _your_ choice, not ours."

My choice. No, she was wrong; I had been given no choice. Not since the moment I had grabbed the morpher to keep it away from another mutant. Taking it, keeping it, using it, every step along the way had been something I needed to do. I _needed_ that morpher, and the power it gave me.

_There's more to life than power._

Only to someone who already has it. I focused on the morpher again. How could I get it back? What chance did I have against someone like Conwing? Wes and the others... Instantly I dismissed the idea of asking them for help. They'd made it clear enough that they didn't want me to have the morpher. If they managed to defeat the mutant they'd keep it for themselves.

Jen was storming off after another angry remark. And it occurred to me that I might have a hold over them - if Conwing had been telling me the truth up on that bridge. "I know more about you than you think," I said, seeing her stop, shoulders stiffening. "I know you and your friends aren't even from here."

She turned back, her cautious expression telling me I was on the right track. "What are you talking about?"

I threw it at her. "So it's true. You _are_ from the future."

I had expected denial, expected her to try to laugh it off, or maybe get angry and threaten me. But Jen only turned around and stared at me for a few moments, not an angry or frightened look, but one that seemed to be trying to understand - looking for weaknesses, probably, but still...

She came closer, and what she said surprised me. "I'm sorry. Maybe we should have told you we were from the year 3000. But if you only knew what's at stake... The whole world, everything we-"

I almost did it, almost threatened to reveal their secret and turn the whole city, and Mr. Collins, against them, unless they got that morpher back and gave it to me. Almost. But Jen looked so sincere, and try as I might I couldn't shake the thought that maybe she really meant it. The mutants... everything that had been going on... Was I interfering with people who were trying to do something important?

No. Whatever they were doing, I had a right to be a part of it. Maybe this girl had Wes wrapped around her little finger but she wasn't going to stop _me_, no matter how pretty she was or how sweet she acted. "Save it," I interrupted. "I don't want to hear about your problems. I got my own. Like getting my morpher back."

We exchanged a few more remarks, none of them friendly. Jen was about to leave again - and turned back again. "Do me one favor," she said. "Don't tell anyone we're from the future. It could ruin everything we're working for."

Again I was tempted to threaten - or at least to make a bargain. The morpher for my silence. But no, I knew the decision had already been made. They were safe from me - but I didn't see any need to tell _her_ about it. Let them all sweat a little. "I'm not making any promises," I muttered.

Seconds later she was gone, disappearing into the woods. I stayed where I was, suddenly feeling weighed down, tired, burdened with hopelessness. Again guilt whispered in my ear, telling me that if Conwing used the Q-Rex to destroy Silver Hills it would be my fault for not turning the morpher over to its rightful owners.

_So, what are you going to do about it?_

What _can_ I do? Without the morpher I'm nothing.

_Nothing? The suit's not much without the man in it. Maybe it's the morpher that's nothing without you. Go back there. Help them._

Again, there was no real choice. I had to try, for the sake of everyone in the city beyond these woods, for the little girl who lived next door, for Wes, for Jen and her friends who had come from the future to protect us. Maybe even for myself.

- - -

"_Doctor, they need you for another patient." _

"_Damn... Try to get him stabilized. I'll be back."_

- - -

What was _he_ doing here?

That was my first thought as I saw Wes making his way through the busy Bio-Lab lobby. Where did he think he was going? Couldn't he see we had a crisis on our hands, and no one here had the time to deal with him and whatever he wanted now?

I stepped into his path and stopped him with a hand against his chest. "Where are you going?"

To my surprise, he reacted with anger. "I need to see my father," he snapped, and tried to push by.

"He's busy with the Silver Guardians. Come back later." I stopped him again with a slightly harder shove.

Again he surprised me by not backing down. Grabbing my wrist, he stepped closer to glare into my face. "No. It can't wait."

"In case you haven't heard, the city's under attack!"

"I know! That's why I'm here!" The anger faltered, and died into fear - but not for himself. "My friends have been bitten."

His friends... Much as I disliked them, that didn't mean I wanted something like this to happen to them. I just stared at Wes for another moment, something passing between us as his eyes searched mine for sympathy, and found it. He was hurting, and asking for my help. _My_ help. I guess it was my chance to finally get back at him once and for all - but it never even occurred to me to turn him down as I saw the appeal in his face.

_Maybe it was the first time you bothered to really look at him. Not seeing the money and the morpher, but just him._

An hour later we stood in a corner of Dr. Zaskin's laboratory, watching as the best biologists in Silver Hills went to work on the sample of serum Wes had brought. If he was right, it would save not just his friends but everyone in the city who had been bitten in this latest attack. He would be the hero again... and yet, I couldn't bring myself to resent it this time.

I watched his face, so pale and worried and vulnerable. For a moment I wanted to reach out, just to put a hand on his shoulder. But he probably wouldn't like that. Instead I said the only thing I could think of that might help.

"There's nothing more you can do here. Go take care of your friends. I'll call you if anything happens."

Wes's blue eyes turned to me, perhaps trying to see if I meant it or was being sarcastic again. Apparently he was satisfied with whatever he saw. "As soon as you know something? Promise?"

"Sure. And if - _when_ they start making the serum, I'll make sure you get the first batch."

Again, our eyes met and held. And then he said, "Thanks," and for just a moment we were the old Wes and Eric, friends again, as his warm, bright smile that I still remembered from so many years ago seemed to go right through me.

- - -

"_How's he doing?" _

"_So far so good. He seems to be responding to the oxygen." _

"_Good. I have to go back to another patient; call me if anything happens."_

- - -

The attack had been swift, and vicious. A mob of cyclobots, swarming through the hallways and laboratories of Bio-Lab. And with them - Ransik himself, big and ugly as life. I had tried to stop him as he left, thought I'd have no problem; I was a Ranger after all, and stronger than any of the rest of them. Now I was lying flat on my back, beaten and forcibly demorphed. Ransik sneered down at me, laughing at me. He hadn't even broken a sweat in our brief fight.

Was he going to kill me? He could, easily. But for whatever reason, he just gave me a contemptuous look and walked away, as if I wasn't even worth the effort.

_The mighty Quantum Ranger, not so unbeatable after all._

Stiffly, I climbed back to my feet and limped back towards the building. And then I saw that Ransik hadn't been so merciful to Mr. Collins, as he was carried out on a stretcher and lifted into an ambulance.

- - -

"_Heartbeat is getting irregular. Blood pressure falling. Breathing is erratic." _

"_Get a tube into him, and find the doctor! Any doctor!"_

- - -

I sat in a boardroom at Bio-Lab, trying to keep my face from showing anything as anger followed shock at the sight of Wesley Collins, complete with suit and tie, taking a seat at the head of the conference table. Mr. Collins' seat. While his father was fighting for his life, Wes was already moving in and taking over, like a shark smelling blood.

_Look at his face. Does he look like he wants to be here? Or does he look lost and alone, just trying to do what he thinks his father would want?_

He looks like... What difference does it make? He's here. He's taking control. And guess what's the first thing he'll probably do?

_Wes isn't petty or vindictive. He's never given up on trying to be your friend. He won't fire you._

After everything I've done and said to him? He'd be a fool not to.

_Feeling guilty?_

No - yes - I don't know! I can't take the chance. Don't want to give him the satisfaction of getting back at me.

_Why? Because you'd rather quit than be fired? Or because if Wes hates you; if you've made him hate you with your arrogance and your hostility, it would hurt more than you can stand?_

Because... I don't know! Leave me alone!

- - -

"_He's in cardiac arrest, Doctor!" _

"_Prep him, and get the crash cart ready!"_

- - -

"I'll miss you."

I was surprised when Alice hugged me, her little arms tight around my waist. What had I done to earn her affection? Been her neighbor? I was gone more than I was home. Let her play with my birds once in a while? That had been more for me than for her, because it was nice to have her undemanding company, and to talk about the simple things children care about, and forget the increasing complexity of my own life just for a few minutes.

Awkwardly I rested my hands lightly on her shoulders. After another moment she looked up, eyes clear and innocent, the look of a child who has learned to accept the strange and sometimes hurtful things grownups do without asking too many questions. I wondered if I had looked like that when my mother left.

The cab was waiting. I opened the door and leaned in to drop my bag on the seat, and then turned back to say goodbye. Alice was staring at me solemnly. Swallowing back the lump that had risen in my throat, I found I couldn't speak. Instead I smiled, and reached to touch her cheek, and then got in. The smile stayed on my face while I waved a last time, and then faded as the cab carried me towards a future that loomed bleak and empty. I had left everything behind, even my birds. They would be better off without me. Everyone would.

_Why exactly are you doing this?_

Mr. Collins would be gone soon, if he wasn't already. With Wes running Bio-Lab, how long would my job last? No, better to leave, and start over somewhere else.

_Wes has tried very hard to make friends again. If you're leaving, it's because of you, not him. Admit it._

Even if Wes didn't fire me, how could I face taking orders from him? Calling him 'sir'? It would just be too humiliating.

_So you're going to run away, and take your toys with you. The other Rangers need you. So does everyone in Silver Hills._

They don't need _me_. They need the morpher and the Q-Rex.

_Not much of a distinction, when you're the one controlling them. Like it or not, that morpher came with responsibilities. You can't just leave._

Movement caught my eye. Two huge forms in the distance, facing each other in battle, the Time Force megazord and Frax's latest creation. It didn't look good for Wes and his friends; their zord had already taken obvious damage and took more as the dragon-like robot sent sparks flying with a blow to the chest. "Pull over!" I said without thinking, and got out as soon as the cab came to a stop.

I hesitated for a few seconds, but I already knew what I had to do. Whatever Wes thought of me, whatever he might do to me later on - at this moment he needed me. They all did. I raised my arm to morph, and joined the fight.

- - -

"_Get ready to shock! Everybody clear!" _

"_Doctor, wait! I have a pulse! He's back!"_

- - -

We had won. The others were busy congratulating each other as their zords disappeared, heading back to their own time. I made no attempt to join them. I had played my part, and somehow that was enough. Leaving them to their celebration, I sent the Q-Rex back to its hiding place, demorphed, and commandeered a car from a unit of Silver Guardians that had been observing the battle from a safe distance.

Which left me with a choice. Find my stuff, call another cab, and head out of Silver Hills again? Or go home and face up to the consequences of my own actions? Make my peace with Wes, if he was willing, suck it up and do my job, even if I had to do it for him?

_Would that be so difficult?_

Difficult, yes. Reporting to Wes... obeying his orders...

_Why does that seem so impossible? _

Because when I look at him I still see that kid I used to hang with in school. I still see the guy who avoided responsibility, and was just out for a good time.

_Do you see the guy who made friends with you, and didn't care what the other kids thought? The guy who's tried to make friends with you again, despite your attitude? The guy who's never been anything but kind to you?_

I see him turning away from me because of one mistake, when I tried to come on to him.

_Maybe he was confused, and didn't know how to react. He was just a kid then. Maybe that was his one mistake._

I see... I see the kid I had a crush on then.

_Or do you see the man you're in love with now?_

Love? No. Hell no.

_You can lie to him, and even to yourself. But not to me._

Wes! I hit the brakes instinctively as I saw him burst out of the bushes, cross the sidewalk at a run, and stop just before my car would have hit him. Damn, I could have killed him! Shock and relief turned to anger; I wanted to yell at him; I wanted to hit him; I wanted to jump out and grab him...

He must be rushing back to the hospital to see his father; even Wes wasn't enough of an idiot to run into the street without looking unless he was too upset to see straight. Maybe this was my chance to show him I wasn't the lunatic he and his friends probably thought I was. Maybe it was a chance to start over, in a very small way.

Dammit, maybe it was time to admit I liked him. Just a little.

_Only a little?_

All right, all right, more than a little. Love? Well, I'll think about that later.

"Get in!" I called to Wes, seeing him nod and give me the ghost of a smile as I added, "I'll give you a ride."

- - -

"_He seems to be stable enough to be moved to intensive care. We'll have to keep an eye on him; we don't know much about the effects of these blasters. Let's just hope he's past the worst of it."_

- - -

I opened my eyes to darkness, and wondered if I was still alive. But I must be, in the afterlife I wouldn't be lying under a heap of rubble. And I wouldn't hurt so much. Gathering my strength, I shoved on a sheet of metal over my head, and got it out of the way.

Destruction. Nothing but destruction all around, small fires, smoke. The Q-Rex and Doomtron, they had been fighting; where were they? I scrambled out and slid painfully to the ground, got to my feet, and looked up to see my once-mighty zord, now almost too damaged to move. "Q-Rex!" I shouted, and got only a twitch and a rumble in response.

It needed to recover, to repair itself. And I needed some repairing myself. But it looked like I wasn't going to get the chance, as a small mob of cyclobots appeared from the wreckage strewn around me. My morpher was out of power after somehow keeping me alive through being blasted by Frax's robot; it would be of no help now.

The next minute or two was a blur as I defended myself as best I could. They surrounded me, too many to fight, just a wall of fists and grabbing hands and kicking feet. When they threw me onto a car and let me fall to the cracked pavement again, I knew this was it, I was facing death in the middle of a ruined city, with no one to see, without having defeated Ransik or Frax, and not even at the hands of a living opponent.

But I wasn't going to admit defeat, or to go quietly. Wordlessly I snarled at them as they came closer... and caught the movement only an instant before a form in a red shirt flew in and whirled into action. Wes, not looking a whole lot better off than I was, but still on his feet, and strong enough to drive most of them away.

When he reached me I was dragging myself up, determined not to let him see me just lying there helplessly. "I was managing just fine, thanks," I said, but held on to him gratefully enough.

"Right," was all Wes said, but I caught a glint of amusement in his eyes before he hauled me the rest of the way onto my feet.

- - -

"_Doctor? How is he?" _

"_Still stable, but he hasn't recovered consciousness." _

"_What are his chances?" _

"_No way to know at this point. But he's young, and strong. I'm hopeful." _

"_He's lived though more than most of us face in a lifetime, and come out on top. No reason to think he won't do it again." _

"_Any word about your son?" _

"_Not yet. But I've gotten a report that the Rangers are in action again."_

- - -

"You and I have _nothing_ in common!" I glared up at Wes as he sat on a broken piece of concrete in the wreckage-strewn back alley where we had found temporary safety.

I'm not sure if it was the pain of my injuries, the hopelessness of our situation, or the shock of finding out Wes's pals from the future had run out on us. Probably it had a lot to do with his casual assumption that we would stick together and team up now. Or maybe it was surprise at the way he had gotten angry at me when I told him that wasn't going to happen. He had demanded an explanation - and I had given it to him. It was more than I could remember ever telling anyone about myself. Growing up poor. No one to help, no one to care. The endless struggle just to keep myself out of the gutter, while he was cruising through life on his daddy's money. I had told him, all right, all the reasons why we shouldn't - couldn't - be friends.

For a moment I thought he would accept it - but then he crouched beside me, his face hard and determined. "No," he said. "We may have grown up differently, but we have a lot in common. We both fought to change our destinies, and we both succeeded." He grabbed my wrist, and held his arm next to mine. "Look at this!" Unwillingly, I glanced down to see our morphers, different yet the same, side by side. "We are Power Rangers, Eric. And friends or not, we're the only hope this city has right now!"

_Is this the same guy you thought was a weakling? A lazy rich kid with nothing on his mind except a good time?_

I raised my eyes to Wes's. No. Not a weakling. I suspect he's stronger than I am in some ways.

_About time you realized that._

Okay, okay. You're right and I'm wrong. Wes is right and I'm wrong. Happy now?

_Yes. If you can admit that, you don't need me anymore._

"So - what do you suggest we do now?" I asked Wes, and saw him smile.

- - -

"_Still no change?" _

"_No. He seems to be in some kind of coma." _

"_But - he'll come out of it, won't he?" _

"_We just have to wait and see."_

- - -

I had never been in the other Rangers' clock tower before, except for the little shop they worked out of on the ground floor. Couldn't say much for it now, when it was dark and empty. Hard to imagine that Wes Collins, spoiled rich kid, had spent months living in this chilly, dusty dump. My respect for him went up another couple of notches. As a matter of fact, I felt - I dunno, proud of him or something.

"You're pretty badly hurt," he told me now, as I gave the bandage he had wound around my arm a gingerly touch. "You've got to take it easy. The next time we go out there..."

He was right, but if he thought I was going to let him go on alone, he was crazy. "It doesn't matter how bad it is, does it?" I said, a little more harshly than I intended. "I'll still have to fight."

Still, we didn't have to go into action quite yet. I sat on the ancient sofa they must have all relaxed on in better times, and looked up at the glass clock face that let in enough moonlight to cast the room into shades of silver and shadow. Wes followed and sat beside me.

We began to talk. It started innocently enough, with his teammates, and why they had left. But then, when he told me what Alex, his double in the future, had said about them - about him, and what was going to happen to him, according to history... It became more personal. He believed he was going to die. I believed it too. And if he was going to die, most likely I was too, because there was no way in hell I wasn't going to do my damn best to try and prevent it.

I'm not sure why I said it. The need to confess, I suppose, or to reach out and hope he understood what was behind so many of the things I had said and done in the past. "Wes..." I started, and hesitated. "We may not survive this night. We may never see each other alive again. I need to tell you..."

"Go on."

I looked away, not quite daring to see his reaction. "You probably know already. Must have suspected it, ever since school."

"What?" The word sounded almost afraid, as if he didn't think he wanted to hear what I had to say.

"That I'm gay." I glanced up, not long enough to see anything.

"Eric, I -- it doesn't matter to me."

"It should. I had a crush on you back then. A big one. That time, in the study room, you probably wondered if I was going to try to kiss you. I was."

Wes paused as long as I had. "I remember," he finally said.

"After that, I was embarrassed to face you. Thought you probably hated me. So I got angry. Tried to hate you back."

It all came out then. School, that night, how I felt afterwards, my scholarship being pulled, dropping out and going into the Army. Wes listened, with only a comment or two. I tried to figure out what he was thinking, but all I could see was that he was embarrassed. So of course I made it worse by confessing things I had avoided admitting even to myself.

"You were nice; you tried to make friends again. And you were a great Ranger. A good fighter. Brave. Smart. Willing to risk your life to help other people. Even me. I started to respect you. And..." I could have stopped there. Should have. But I didn't. "It's stupid, I know. But I love you." I tried again to see a reaction. "I guess there were times you suspected it. Sometimes I even thought... maybe you felt something too..."

Wes shook his head. "No. I couldn't. I love Jen."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure."

"All right. Fair enough." It almost stopped there. But...

"I'm sorry, Eric. I wish..." Wes looked into my eyes, and I saw something at last. It was hidden, it was only a spark, and an unwilling one, but it called to me and gave me hope.

I leaned closer. "Wes, this might be the last chance. Please..." I reached out hesitantly and saw him flinch, but that spark was still there, brighter now. "Just let me touch you... once..."

I ran my fingers over his cheek, and his face began to come closer, and he didn't stop me when I closed the distance between us and kissed him at last, our lips barely making contact. And then I realized he was kissing back, and reaching to pull me closer, and he didn't stop me when the kiss became passionate and my hands began to explore. He didn't stop me when I unzipped his pants, and when I knelt between his knees...

There's a big difference between having sex and making love. As quick and clumsy and out of control as it was, I had never felt anything like it. Until it was over, and Wes pushed me away.

- - -

"_Look at his eyes. Rapid movements, like deep sleep. As if he's dreaming, and can't wake up." _

"_Or won't wake up. There's no physical reason for him to still be unconscious. Wish we knew more about the effects of these blast weapons." _

"_Yes. We can give him stimulants, keep his heart beating and his lungs working. But who knows what's really going on inside him?"_

- - -

Morning. I kept going, because that was all that was left. Just keep going long enough to beat Ransik and Frax, and get rid of the cyclobots, and save the city. If we could. But Wes and I both knew we couldn't; I could see it in his eyes, the few times he would look at me.

_It never happened,_ that was what he had said in the clock tower, when he realized what we had done. It shouldn't have happened. But it had, and like all the mistakes we make in life we would just have to live with it. In our case, I was pretty sure we wouldn't have to live with it much longer. The cyclobots had found us there not long after our little encounter, and we had barely escaped with our lives. Next time, we probably wouldn't be so lucky.

"What's that?" Wes had stopped in the middle of the rubble-strewn street, staring ahead.

I heard it too. "Cyclobots."

"Let's go."

The sight we saw froze both of us, but only for an instant. Moving as if we were one person, we morphed and attacked; destroyed most of the cyclobots which were closing in on Mr. Collins, and drove off the rest. As soon as it seemed to be safe, we demorphed, as we had been doing to conserve the energy in our morphers.

Wes ran to his father. "Dad, what are you doing here?"

"I was looking for you." He said something more, about being proud. I tried not to listen, and not to watch them as they hugged. It was easier to look away as I wondered what it would feel like to have a father who cared about me that way. But for once what I felt wasn't envy and resentment, but gladness that Wes finally appreciated what he had.

So it was pure luck that I was looking away from them, and in the right direction to see one of the fallen cyclobots move, lifting its arms, raising a blaster to take aim, dead at Wes and Mr. Collins. I moved, acting on pure instinct, jumping into the line of fire even as I shot back. Fast enough to save them - but not myself.

It was like the time Conwing had blasted me, but much worse. I saw the energy blaze up around me, and felt it burn. Then as it faded, all I felt was a sort of numbness, and all I saw was a blur as I started to fall.

They caught me before I hit the ground. As Wes bent over me, I thought I saw that spark again, this time cold with fear and warm with concern. "We've got to get him help!" he said to his father.

"I'll take him."

"No..." I saw the look that passed between them. It meant that Wes was going on alone. Without me. "I'm going with you..." I tried to fit action to words, and get up. But it was only words, and we all knew it as pain brought me back down, weak and groaning.

"Eric, don't worry. I got it from here." Wes laid a gentle hand on my chest and started to stand.

"Wait! Wait..." If I couldn't be with him, there was still one thing I could do. One thing I could give him, one way to help. There was not a shred of doubt or hesitation in my mind as I held my morpher up to my face and deactivated the voice identification, breaking my link with it and leaving it ready to be controlled by another person. Then, painfully, I undid the strap and held it out. "Take this. If anything can neutralize those crystals... my Quantum Defender can."

Looking astonished and overwhelmed - stunned, really - Wes took it. Had I been so selfish that he found it amazing that I would do this for him? But of course I had. I held my hand up, wondering if he would take it. He did, clasping it tightly with his own, his eyes looking deeply into mine once more, and there it was again, the spark...

And then he was gone, going to meet death on his own terms, with all the courage I had never given him credit for. Gone, as I heard the distant sound of car engines grow louder and Mr. Collins waved and shouted, gone as everything faded into silence and darkness.

- - -

"_Eric? _

"_Eric, it's me. Wes. _

"_Can you hear me? _

"_They said you called for me. You asked for me. _

"_The doctors say they don't know why you won't wake up. Dad said maybe if I talk to you, it would help. Just to tell you everything's okay now. We captured Ransik. He gave up, really. Nadira too. Frax was destroyed in the fight. _

"_My friends - Jen and the others - they came back. They disobeyed orders from Time Force and came back to help me. I guess history has changed - but then I always said we make our own destiny. Maybe it's even true. It seems to have worked out; no harm done, the timeline survived okay. And the city came through, too. Lots of damage, but we're going to make it. _

"_So anyway... Eric... anyway... I just wanted to say something. About what happened... Well, I wish I knew what to say, but I don't. Just... all I know is you saved my life, and Dad's, and I want you to know I'm grateful. And I'm your friend, and I want you to be okay. No matter what, that's always going to be true. I - I care about you. _

"_Jen said they want to let you keep the morpher. So you have every reason to wake up, don't you? I'm leaving it right here, so it'll be ready for you when you wake up. That's when, Eric, not if. When. I have to go now, but it'll be waiting... So will Dad, and Jen and the others... and so will I..."_

- - -

When I opened my eyes again, it was to a white ceiling, white walls, and the soft sounds of hospital equipment in an empty room. And a question. I could remember the shadowy dreams in which I had wandered my own past, and the sound of my own voice, sometimes mocking, sometimes arguing, always forcing me to see what I should have seen then. Had I imagined Wes's voice too, calling me back?

No way to know... or maybe there was. When I turned my head I saw it, red and black, lying on the table next to my bed. My morpher.

We make our own destiny, Wes had said. Maybe he was right. We had won; the long hard fight was over, and the rest of our lives was about to begin. Whether or not Wes forgave me for what had happened between us, whatever he really felt for me, and whatever our relationship finally turned out to be... It was time to start thinking about a better destiny, as I prepared to face the future.

- - -

TBC...


	6. Future Tense 'photograph'

Wes, Eric, and all other characters from Power Rangers belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.  
Anyone you don't recognize is mine.

Rated T: language, violence, sexual content including m/m sexual relationships.

**A/N:** This is a response to the Power Rangers Slash Write 22 challenge, a slash-oriented romance theme challenge. A link to the challenge site on LiveJournal is in my profile.

Reviews are always appreciated.

**Turns in the Road**

* * *

Future Tense (Photograph)

- - -

It was still in my pocket.

That's right... When the cyclobots had broken in the windows of the clock tower and attacked Eric and me, I had been looking at one of those snapshots we had all taken of ourselves a few months ago. I had no memory of shoving it into my pocket, but obviously that's what I had done. Now, I stared down at it: crumpled and battered, but the image was still there.

Again I stared into the faces of Jen, Trip, Katie, and Lucas. They had been clowning for the camera, holding up their morphers while I took the picture. One of the rare times we had all been relaxing, having fun. Now - no more clock tower. No more team. Soon, no more Trip, Katie, and Lucas. Most of all, no more Jen. The life I had lived for close to a year was gone, forever. Someday even my memories of it would fade and change, until there was nothing real left except for this fragile photograph with its portrait of one happy moment, frozen forever in time.

"Hey."

I looked up to see Jen herself standing over me, her face scraped and smudged with dirt, but smiling. Dredging up a smile myself, I answered, "Hey yourself. Got everything settled?"

She nodded and sank onto the hospital bench next to me with a sigh. "Ransik and Nadira are packed away in containment. We reported in to Time Force. Looks like all the damage they might have done to the timeline has been contained. Everything's okay."

"That's great," I said, knowing I should be happy but just too tired and numb to feel much.

"What's that?"

I showed it to her. "One of the pictures we took. Remember?"

"Of course." She took it for a closer look. "A long time ago... wasn't it?"

"Yeah. A long time." Right now it felt like a different lifetime.

"Any change yet?" Jen handed the picture back and nodded in the direction of the room where Eric lay, injured and still unconscious.

"No."

"Did you talk to him, like your father suggested?"

"Yeah. Nothing." I shrugged uncomfortably, trying not to let the guilt I felt show.

"I'm sure he'll be all right."

"Yeah. I hope so." I stared down the hall, my mind's eye seeing the room I had just left, the man I had tried to talk to, to explain things to. So much left unsaid, so much I didn't understand myself.

"What's wrong?" Jen asked, watching my face.

No way I could tell her everything. No way. I shrugged. "It's just really strange seeing him like that. Eric always seemed so - so tough. So strong, like nothing could hurt him. And now..." I trailed off, realizing the words were more true than I had thought. It had seemed so _wrong_ to see Eric unconscious and helpless in a hospital bed, as if the universe had suddenly turned inside out. And the sight of his face, the harsh lines softened, had reminded me of things it would be better not to remember...

"None of us are indestructible." Jen's voice was soft.

"Nope. We sure aren't." I focused my attention on her again. "You look tired."

"Two time trips and getting our butts kicked by Ransik has that effect, yes." Her eyes met mine, creasing slightly in amusement before she sighed. "It's over. At last. I can't believe it."

"Neither can I," I said sincerely, leaning my elbows on my knees. After a moment I went on, partly to myself. "I feel kinda... let down, almost. Weird, huh?"

Jen took a while to answer, long enough for me to look up at her again. "Not so weird. This has been our whole lives for a long time. Now, everything changes. We - Lucas and Katie and Trip and I - we'll be going home. For good this time."

"I know." Depression settled on me.

"Wes..." She sounded hesitant.

"Yeah?"

"Um - when we were back in 3000... I gave Alex back his engagement ring."

My glance fell to her hands, tensely clenched on her knees in contradiction to her calm and quiet tone. The left third finger was bare. She had broken up with Alex. The thought penetrated dully, setting off a cascade of questions. Why? Why she done it, and why had she told me? She would have to leave anyway; there was no way we could stay together. What did she expect? Was it possible she felt the same way about me that I did about her? And if she did - what right did I have to say anything to her?

I had betrayed her. Even though we had made no promises or declarations, without meaning to, without understanding why I had done it - I had betrayed her during those few dark minutes with Eric. I felt - dirty.

So I avoided her eyes and mumbled, "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault." I could sense that she was puzzled at my reaction.

But I knew it was my fault, at least in part. If not for me - I knew Jen liked me. I knew she had been troubled about Alex, and God help me, I had tried to win her from him, even when I knew I couldn't offer her anything permanent. That had been a betrayal too.

"Well... I'd better find Lucas, Trip, and Katie. Maybe we'll get something to eat." She stood up. "You coming?"

"No." With an effort, I smiled up at her. "Not yet. I'll stay here for a while and see if anything happens. If you don't mind."

"Sure, no problem. We can meet you here later."

"Go on over to Dad's house if you want. He said you could stay as long as you need to."

"I know. I'll see what the others want to do." She laid a soft hand on my shoulder. "You must be exhausted. Don't stay too late."

"I won't."

I watched her until she disappeared into an elevator and then looked around the hospital corridor, now empty except for the occasional nurse or doctor hurrying on his or her way. After the frantic activity of the last several hours of casualties arriving and being cared for, peace had descended. I leaned back, closed my eyes, and tried to relax. But the dark behind my eyelids turned into the gloom of the clock tower, with Eric's shadowed face leaning close to mine...

No. I bent forward, elbows on knees, rubbing my aching eyes, wishing I could rub the memory away too. But of course it wouldn't go; with the battle over and no one around to talk to, it hung there in my mind demanding that I think about it. My glance fell to the picture in my hand and I tried to concentrate on it, but even Jen's face couldn't erase that other, darker, infinitely more disturbing and compelling image.

Why? Why had I done it? Why let Eric touch me, and kiss me, and... and do the other things he had done? Why hadn't I stopped him? Most of all, why had I wanted it? Because I had, there was no use denying it. I could almost still feel it, and could feel that treacherous excitement stirring in the pit of my stomach again at the thought.

I clenched my fists, fighting it back. This didn't mean anything. It had happened, but only because we had been alone, in the dark, both thinking we were going to die. Only because Eric had told me all those things about his life, and then he had said he loved me, and I had felt sorry for him. Then... well, sex was sex, after all, and it felt good. A lot of guys fool around with other guys, just experimenting or - whatever, and it didn't mean they were... I had been curious, couldn't deny that, ever since school I had wondered about Eric and about that night he had tried to kiss me, and what would have happened if he had. Well, now my curiosity was satisfied, and I could forget about it.

At the sound of footsteps coming down the hall I looked up, and saw Dad headed towards me, a tired smile on his face. He was a welcome distraction from my own thoughts, and I smiled back.

"How are you holding up?" he asked, sitting beside me.

"I'm okay. You?"

"Fine. Just fine."

"You should go home. Get some rest."

"Soon. The Guardians are still rounding up the last of the cyclobots, and with Eric out of action they need someone in command."

"I could take care of it, Dad," I offered without thinking.

"Yes, I'm sure you could," he said, eyeing me speculatively. "But you're worn out yourself. If I can find Steve Miller, I'll put him in charge, at least for tonight."

"Good." I stared down at the floor, too out of it to think of anything more to say.

"Maybe I've said it already, but it bears repeating." Dad was watching me with a smile when I looked up, but there was a depth of feeling in his eyes. "I'm very proud of you. You saved us, all of us."

"Thanks..." I shrugged, feeling embarrassed and not terribly proud of myself. "But I didn't save everyone, or this hospital wouldn't be full of victims right now."

"We all do what we can, Wes." He sighed. "Bad things happen, and sometimes nothing can prevent it. But you stopped it from being much worse. Most of the people in this city owe you their lives."

"It was the others, really. I would have been toast if they hadn't come back."

"That's the point, isn't it? You were willing to risk your life, not just today but through all of this." Dad cleared his throat and gave me a manly thump on the shoulder. "You went up against big odds, worked well with your team, and showed some real leadership ability."

Anxious to give credit where it was due and to change the subject from myself and my supposed abilities, I said, "You should have seen Jen, Dad. I think she would have beaten Ransik single-handed, even if he hadn't accidentally shot Nadira and given up. It was like she - she wouldn't _let_ herself be defeated."

"She's a determined young lady."

"Yeah, she sure is." Determined, that was a good word. Also brave and single-minded. Strong. Tough. A lot like - like Eric.

"Too bad she's going to be leaving."

I didn't like the way Dad's sharp eyes were watching me, so I just shrugged again and said, "Yeah."

"With all of this over - what are you going to do now?"

What was I going to do? The question was vaguely irritating. "Geez, Dad, it's only been a few hours. I haven't exactly planned out the rest of my life yet."

"I don't expect you to, son." Dad stood up, looking very self-satisfied for some reason. "Just keep the possibilities in mind, that's all I ask. I'm going to see if I can find Miller. Are you going home?"

Home. I realized he meant the house, not the clock tower. Somehow it made everything that much more real, and to my alarm I felt something suspiciously like tears in the backs of my eyes. "Uh... I'll go in a little while, Dad. Jen and the others may come back here, and I want to see if - if anything changes."

"Right." His eyes moved towards the door behind which we both knew Eric lay. "We owe him a lot, and I won't forget. Let me know if he needs anything."

"I will."

I shook my head as he walked away and disappeared around a corner. I guess he thought he was being subtle, but what he was after was crystal-clear to me. A few little hints about my 'leadership ability', a question about what I planned on doing now, a mention of the possibilities. He hadn't given up on getting me into Bio-Lab, one way or another, and the way he had in mind was probably through the Silver Guardians.

And was that such a bad idea? To my own surprise, it didn't seem nearly as unpleasant a prospect as it had when he had offered it months ago. It would be nice to do something that would please him, after the trouble between us. Plus being in the Guardians would mean I could keep on doing something similar to what I had been doing with Jen, Lucas, Trip, and Katie, as similar as I was going to get with Ransik and his crew gone. No, not bad at all. But on the other hand - that last offer had been before Eric was commander. And before - well, before tonight.

I glanced down at the picture again, and then slid it into my pocket and leaned my head back, trying to get comfortable and think about this. Could I work with Eric? Months ago I would have said no - not that I didn't like him, or respect him, but because he had a problem with me - but now - now things had reversed, in a crazy way, and I was the one with the problem. Could I stand seeing him every day after what had happened between us tonight? Would it be embarrassing? Uncomfortable? And what about him? Maybe he wouldn't want to be around me. Or - what if he came on to me again? But no, that wouldn't be like him; he could take a hint - at least I thought so - still, if he felt that way...

As I gave up on sitting and lay down on the bench, grateful for the meager comfort of a thin layer of padding, it occurred to me that it didn't have to be like that. Dad would send Eric away if I asked him to. Nothing bad, of course, I didn't want him fired or anything like that, just a transfer to another one of Bio-Lab's holdings, maybe even overseas. Eric might like that, maybe even let him chose where to go, maybe he wanted to get out of here anyway...

But, strangely, I knew I wouldn't ask Dad to do anything of the kind. The thought of working with the Guardians without Eric - of living in Silver Hills without him - of maybe never seeing him again - well, for some reason I didn't like the idea. If he wanted to leave when he found out he'd have to be around me - well, I'd face that possibility when the time came. But he wouldn't. Eric had a life here, and a home, and he loved being in charge of the Guardians... Assuming I was right and Dad offered me a job... We'd work it out... Yeah, this could work...

- - -

"Wes? Wes! Wake up! Have you been here all night?"

"Huh?" I said cleverly, blinking into the morning sunshine that was coming through the line of windows in the corridor. Four faces were clustered above me: Katie smiling, Trip grinning, Lucas smirking, and even Jen looking amused. They all appeared to be disgustingly wide awake. "Man... Guess I have." I sat up with a groan, as all the aches and pains of yesterday's fighting joined forces with the stiffness of sleeping on a narrow hospital bench.

"No news, then?" Jen asked, brows creasing slightly.

"No." All my worrying about whether Eric and I could work together would be pointless if he never woke up. I hadn't even considered that possibility, but - if he was still in a coma after all this time... With difficulty I staggered to my feet, feeling slightly better after stretching out some of the kinks. "I'm going to find a doctor."

We were lucky; after only a few minutes Trip spotted the doctor we had talked to last night. Vaguely I hoped the guy hadn't been working all this time, but my main thought was of Eric as I caught up to him and stammered an anxious question.

"Right, Eric Myers," he said with a glance at all five of us. "He's awake."

"He is?" I said, starting to grin as a weight seemed to lift from me. "Is he okay?"

"We're keeping him for a few days, but I think he'll be fine." He hesitated a moment, and then smiled. "You can see him if you want."

Knowing he was going to be all right was one thing... but see him? Now? It was my turn to hesitate, but Trip jumped in. "Great!" he exclaimed. "Thanks!"

At the door to Eric's room I stopped, taking a deep breath, feeling my heart start to pound, seriously considering waiting outside. Just nerves - natural, I guess, considering everything. Still, this was Eric. He had saved my life. I had been able to talk to him when he was unconscious, should be able to talk to him now. I owed him that much. Jen gave me a slightly inquisitive glance but didn't ask questions as Katie knocked softly on the door. A familiar voice answered her, the door opened, and the four of them crowded through.

I edged in behind them, feeling ashamed of my reluctance as Eric's eyes searched, found me, and brightened at the sight. "Hi," I muttered, feeling like an idiot.

"Hi," he answered, ducking his head a little and looking just as self-conscious as I felt. "Uh... You okay?"

"Yeah, sure. I'm fine. Glad you're better."

"Thanks."

"How are you feeling?" Jen asked.

"Okay, I guess." Eric looked up, his voice slightly sarcastic as he added, "Nice of you guys to decide to show up again."

"Yes. Well, it really wasn't our idea to leave in the first place," she said with a mocking glare at me.

"So I heard. Just like Wes to do something like that, isn't it?"

"Yeah. I guess he wanted to take all the credit for himself." Lucas grinned at me.

"But if we hadn't gone home and gotten the megazord, we might not have been able to stop Doomtron," Trip said seriously.

"That's right." Katie nodded decisively. "So it was all for the best."

There was a murmur of assent from everyone, and then one of those awkward silences when everyone realizes they have nothing intelligent to say. To my surprise, Eric was the one who broke it.

"Listen..." He glanced around at all of them, and then looked at Jen as he raised his arm a little. For the first time, I noticed the Quantum morpher I had left beside the bed was back on his wrist. "I just want to say thank you for this. I know we haven't always gotten along so good..." Lucas snorted faintly - "but anyway... Thanks."

"You've come a long way since the day you stole it." Jen raised a brow as he seemed about to protest her description of how he had gotten the morpher. "And - well, you've earned it."

The same words she had used when she gave me the red morpher. I found myself smiling.

After a few more minutes of making conversation, Lucas jumped on the opportunity of escape when Eric yawned. "We'd better let you get some rest," he said. "Besides, we've got some more stuff to take care of."

"Right. We have to collect the cyclobots and get them shipped back to our time," Jen said. "And what's left of Doomtron. And we have to do something about Ransik's prison ship. Can't just leave it here." She was already reaching for the doorknob, the others behind her as they said a few quick goodbyes. I stopped in the doorway and looked back, eager and yet reluctant to leave with neither of us having really said anything, as Eric's eyes met mine.

"Wes."

"Yeah?" Reluctantly, I stepped back in.

"The Guardians can help out with whatever they need."

"Right. I'll take care of it." I nodded. "Well... so long, I guess."

"Wes..." Eric was fidgeting with the sheet, looking more uncertain than I had ever seen him. "Look... I appreciate you coming to see me. And... and leaving the morpher."

"You remember that?" I tried to recall exactly what I had said so late last night, and to decide whether I should be even more embarrassed than I already was.

"Just - I just remember hearing your voice." Eric looked away. "Just wanted to say that."

"No problem." All I wanted at the moment was out of there. "So - see you later."

"See ya." I could almost feel Eric's gaze follow me out.

- - -

Saying goodbye at the beach a few days later was just as hard as I had known it would be. I felt like a big piece of myself was going along with each of them. Lucas - that coolly macho façade slipping for once, tears in his eyes as he hugged me. Katie, affectionately crushing my ribs for the last time. Trip, his normally cheerful face so sad, asking if he could keep the hat I had given him. And then they were gone.

Jen, the hardest of all, both of us barely holding back the tears. She started to walk away - and then ran back to me, both of us holding each other so tight, both crying, never wanting to let go. And then she said she loved me. I said it too - I meant it, I did, even as I felt the guilt of my betrayal and wondered for just a moment what Eric was thinking as he watched from only a few yards away.

Minutes later, I stared up into the sky as the ship disappeared into the darkness of a time hole, leaving me with nothing tangible of my friends and the woman I loved except the photograph I had left safely back in my bedroom. It really was over. I felt empty. Sad, numb, lonely. Not quite ready to face the future yet, as Dad came up behind me.

"You okay?"

"Yeah."

"What now, son?"

I raised my arms in a shrug. "I don't know."

"I have a business proposition for you."

"Dad, come on!"

"Now, hear me out."

I had almost forgotten about that conversation in the hospital, and what I had decided it meant. I had been right; he wanted me to join the Guardians, not just as a member of the troops but as their leader. Their commander. And it sounded even better than before, as he explained that he was no longer going to restrict them to protecting only paying clients.

But... there was still the problem of Eric. I looked at him, finding his face impassive, no sign of the anger he should be feeling at the boss's son being offered a position at least equal to his. Could we do this? Could we find a way to work together, to put the mistakes of the past behind us? Could we forgive each other for the ways we had hurt each other over the years? I already knew the answer, or part of it. We had to try. At least - _I_ had to.

So I accepted the job, and told Dad I wanted Eric as my partner. We shook hands, Eric even breaking into a rare smile, Dad dropping a proud arm over both our shoulders.

But then, as Dad and the Guardians who had come with us went on ahead, I called Eric back. We stopped, stood, and faced each other as a chilly shadow seemed to come over the blue sky of that lonely stretch of beach. There was something more that had to be said between us, and I think we both knew it. Something that needed to be said, and a promise that needed to be made.

"There's a condition to us working together." I searched Eric's face, wishing I could see what he was thinking. "We both forget about what happened in the clock tower. Never mention it again. Never."

I thought I saw just a flicker of pain go through his eyes, and felt some of it myself, but his voice was steady. "If that's what you want."

"That's the way it has to be. Promise."

"Okay," Eric said very softly. "It'll be like it never happened. I promise."

"Good."

We shook on it again, to show there were no hard feelings. I tried not to feel the solid strength of his hand, the tiny thrill that went through me as his fingers touched mine. It was nothing, it meant nothing. We could do this. I knew it.

TBC...


	7. A Walk on the Wild Side

Wes, Eric, and all other characters from Power Rangers belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.  
Anyone you don't recognize is mine.

Rated T: language, violence, sexual content including m/m sexual relationships.

**A/N:** This is a response to the Power Rangers Slash Write 22 challenge, a slash-oriented romance theme challenge. A link to the challenge site on LiveJournal is in my profile.

Reviews are always appreciated.

**Turns in the Road**

* * *

A Walk on the Wild Side (animals, watermelon)

- - -

"Shhh!"

I made a face at him as Eric held up a hand to warn me back, and stepped softly to his side. He was leaning to peer around a thick tree trunk at two deer, male and female, grazing in a small, sun-streaked clearing a few yards away from us. Bright animal eyes turned to me as I smiled and moved into plain view, ignoring Eric's disapproving frown.

"See?" I said. "No one's ever hunted here. They're not afraid of humans." The deer raised their heads, ears twitching, and then got back to the business of eating.

"Stupid of them," he muttered, voice lowered.

"They're protected by the spirits that guard this place. Not like the rest of the world."

"Huh. Any other animals around here?"

"Of course. Lions, tigers..." I couldn't help myself, "...and bears." I failed to mention that they were zords, and not in the habit of attacking non-bad-guy people.

"Yeah?" He looked around, eyes widening slightly. Obviously a city boy.

"If they make you nervous, let's go back."

"I'm not _nervous_," he said nervously, glancing again into the clearing.

He was distracted. I was right next to him. It was the perfect tactical opportunity to regain the property I had temporarily lost, and Taylor Earhardt is certainly not one to let opportunity pass by. With a cry of triumph, I grabbed back the book he had snatched out of my hands a few minutes before, and backed off, laughing. There was a burst of bird calls at the sudden sound and movement, and the deer took off.

"Why, you..." He grinned, and started for me. With a rather disgracefully girly squeal, I beat a strategic retreat back towards the meadow where the rest of my team, and his, were stuffing their faces, playing games, and generally having a good time.

After a short chase I came to a breathless stop just inside the line of trees, blinking at the brightness after the relative gloom of the forest here on the Animarium. The crunch of footsteps on the leaves behind me was Eric, catching up as I turned back to face him. He made another grab at the book - I moved it behind my back - he came close, reaching around me, his arms circling me. I leaned my body against his and raised my face, waiting...

After a moment of hesitation, Eric dropped a quick and decidedly non-romantic kiss on my lips and stepped back, apparently deciding the game was over. He turned to look out into the sunshine at the others, several of them still eating, some scattered in small groups here and there. Shrugging inwardly, I followed his gaze. At least Shayla wasn't singing. Yet.

I slid a sidelong glance at the man beside me. While I won't pretend to be widely experienced in the areas of love and sex, I had spent most of my life around men and had some idea of what most of them are like. In this situation, most red-blooded, healthy, patriotic American males would have made a pass at me within five minutes of finding us alone in the middle of a deserted forest, especially after the half-teasing, half-flirting that had gone on between me and Eric for the last two days. He seemed to like me, there had been no mention of a wife or girlfriend, and he looked about as red-blooded and healthy as any guy I'd ever met. But - he hadn't tried anything, even with a blatant invitation, and I wanted to know why.

This would take my usual subtlety and tact. "Is that what you call a kiss? What's your problem?" I asked.

"Huh?" He looked astonished. Probably not used to women who aren't afraid to say what they think.

"I don't bite, you know. Unless you want me to."

"Shy little thing, aren't you?" He sounded a little irritated. And he wasn't the only one.

"Yeah, shyness has always been my problem. Are you married?"

"No." His eyes had become guarded. Was he lying? Somehow I didn't think so.

"Engaged?"

"No."

"Dating anyone?"

"No." His tone was sarcastic now. "Any more questions that aren't any of your business?"

"No." I crossed my arms. "Just trying to figure you out."

That got a snort of amusement. "Well, if you do that, let me know."

"Don't worry, I will." I considered him for another moment. "You're not being very cooperative."

"And _you're_ asking too many questions." His tone was still light, but there was a warning glint in his eye.

He didn't even come close to scaring me. "Got something to hide? A secret affair? A married woman, maybe? Or someone at work?"

"You're not even warm."

"Hmm... Unrequited love then? Although it's hard to imagine you taking 'no' for an answer, from anyone."

I had only been teasing - but I saw his face tighten and his eyes flash with something close to anger as he muttered, "Don't be ridiculous."

Apparently I had struck a nerve. Hands up in surrender, I said, "Okay. Sorry."

As we fell into an awkward silence, I saw his gaze slide past me to the group of people in the meadow again, and turned to look. Two patches of red caught my eye - Cole and Wes, my red Ranger and his, walking together away from Jen and Alyssa to the accompaniment of a few shouts and cheers, with Danny, Katie, and Trip watching from a short distance.

Unrequited love. Someone here today, maybe? One of his Time Force teammates - Jen or Katie? If it was Jen, I could see why he wouldn't want to admit having a thing for his partner's girl. If it was Katie - he hadn't shown any reluctance to flirt with me in front of her. Unless he was trying to make her jealous. But what would be the point; she wouldn't be around after today anyway. Maybe that was the problem; with either woman there was no chance of anything permanent.

I shook my head and sighed impatiently. Probably my imagination and he just wasn't interested in me. Sometimes I think I tend to scare men, although it was hard to imagine that stopping a guy like Eric. Another glance showed him still staring, watching Wes and Cole who seemed to be having a little footrace now while Alyssa and Jen cheered them on, the sound of happy voices ringing cheerfully over the meadow. I saw his eyes follow Wes - softening and warming with a slight smile as the two red Rangers trailed to a laughing stop in an apparent tie - watching as they walked back to their audience, and then narrowing slightly, his mouth turning into a frown, when Wes threw an arm around Jen's shoulders.

"What's the matter, you don't approve?" I asked.

"Approve of what?" He gave me a cold glance, the kind that probably had his Silver Guardians quaking in their sexy black boots.

"Of Wes and Jen, of course." I nodded in their direction, ignoring his irritated glare. "What's the problem?"

"Nothing!" He balled his fists and jammed them into his pockets. "No problem at all. She's gonna leave again, and he's gonna spend the next six months moping around whining about it. Why should I care?"

"I don't know. Why should you?"

"I don't," he informed me unconvincingly. "Come on. Let's get back."

I followed on his heels as the pieces began to click into place in my head. Eric's reaction to seeing Wes and Jen - a little too angry... Jealousy? I remembered the easy closeness and warmth I had seen between Eric and Wes when we first met. The way they had seemed to communicate with only a glance or a gesture, like lifelong friends. All that had stopped as soon as Jen had showed up. Nothing obvious, Eric had even smiled to see them together - at least when he knew someone was watching. But that was when he had started to keep his distance from them. That was also precisely when his attitude towards me had gone from semi-hostile verbal sparring to outright flirtation. Yes, I suspected Jen was the culprit.

While I didn't appreciate being used to make someone else jealous - looking at Eric's stormy expression I couldn't help feeling just a touch of sympathy. I know what it feels like to see the person you love with someone else, and it can make you do things you'd normally be ashamed to do. So - maybe it was sympathy. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe I just wanted to know what my competition had that I didn't. On impulse, I decided to find out exactly what was going on here.

As we got closer, Jen gave us only a glance and a smile. Wes's reaction puzzled me - a sharp look and a slight frown, quickly concealed, as he saw us together. Strange. I was still wondering when Eric mumbled something about getting more food and stalked off. Cole and Alyssa said they were going to take a walk and wandered away, leaving me with Wes and Jen.

"Beautiful day, isn't it?" I asked. Thank God for the weather, it always gives you something to talk about.

"Yes, beautiful," Wes said with a polite smile, obviously distracted as he looked in the direction Eric had gone.

"Of course, it's usually nice here. One of the advantages of a floating island. We rise above the weather."

"It's a great place."

I decided I might as well get to the point, or somewhere close to it. "Too bad you guys can't stay longer, but I guess all of you have to go home soon."

"Yes. Too bad." Wes dragged his attention from Eric, who had reached the picnic table, picked up a knife, and appeared to be attacking a watermelon. "But Eric and I have to get back to our jobs."

"So do we," Jen said. Her voice was lowered, her eyes raised to Wes's. "As soon as this picnic is over, we'll have to go back to our own time."

"I'm sorry." I felt a little ashamed of myself, bringing up an obviously painful subject out of my own curiosity. "Maybe I shouldn't have said anything."

"No, it's okay. We're all having a great time here, today. That means a lot." Jen put a smile back on her face, but it no longer looked happy. "You and Eric seem to be having a good time, too. I think he likes you."

Caught off guard, I mumbled, "I dunno... mostly we've just argued..."

"I'm sure that's not what you were doing in the woods all this time."

"Well, no. Not exactly arguing." I smiled. It was clear that if Eric had a crush on Jen, she had no idea of it.

"That's nice. I hope it works out for you." Jen's smile seemed wistful now. Wes was frowning again, his gaze moving back to Eric as if magnetically drawn.

"Hey, you guys! Having a good time?" The new voice turned us around to see Katie, a big grin on her face and a can of soda in her hand.

"Yeah, great," Jen said. "Listen, I think I'm going to take a look at the woods myself. Wes...?"

"In a minute," Wes said with a touch on her elbow. "I'm going to grab some more food first."

"Okay."

They both walked away - Jen slowly pacing towards the trees and Wes heading towards the picnic tables and Eric, who by now had completely dismembered the unfortunate watermelon into ragged hunks.

"Is it something I said?" Katie asked.

"No, it's my fault - we got on the subject of all of you having to go back to your own time, and... I guess it kind of spoiled the mood." I gave Katie a thoughtful look. Whether it was fighting at each other's sides or some sort of bond between yellow Rangers, she and I had gotten surprisingly friendly in the last couple of days, friendly enough that I felt comfortable asking her what I wanted to know. "Maybe it's none of my business, but I can see that Wes and Jen are close."

"Close. You could say that." Katie smiled with a tinge of sadness. "When we were in 2001 fighting Ransik, they fell in love. Poor Jen - They never told each other until it was time for us to leave."

"Will she be able to come back and see him? Spend time here, or take him to the future?"

"No. No, there's no way. None of us can stay here, or visit, and Wes can't leave to come to our time. It would endanger the course of history."

"So - they're in love but they can never be together? How awful for them."

"Yes, it is."

We were quiet for a moment as we started to walk slowly in the direction of the picnic table where I could see Wes and Eric standing side by side, their backs to us and their body language telling me their conversation wasn't a friendly one. I felt a stab of pity for Wes and Jen as I saw Shayla and Merrick, sitting on a fallen tree trunk in quiet conversation as we passed. They certainly had their problems, and maybe their obvious but unspoken love for each other would never come to anything, but at least they didn't have a thousand years keeping them apart.

Katie bent her head a little closer to mine, her voice lowered. "Jen told me she thought about staying anyway. Just give up her career, hide out from Time Force, take the chance of changing history."

"What? Is she going to do it?"

"No, of course not. She'd never be happy if she ran out on her responsibilities like that. I don't think Wes would be happy about it either. She said he asked her to think about it, and when she did - she changed her mind."

"Probably better this way, but it's still sad."

By this time we had gotten close enough to Wes and Eric to hear their voices, rising in angry tones just as our own conversation ended. I clearly caught the words Eric snarled as he drove the knife through an already-hacked slice of watermelon and into the table beneath.

"Who the hell are you to tell me what to do?"

"I'm not! I just want to know why you're acting like that when you're not interested!" Wes retorted.

"Hey, you're the one who said she's 'just my type'!"

"I was kidding! Obviously, when I know you're..."

"I'm _what_?" When Wes gave no answer except to angrily slam down the watermelon slice he had been holding, Eric went on mockingly. "You can't even say the word, can you?"

There was a sharp crack as Katie stepped on a twig - probably deliberately, her tactful way of letting them know they were not alone. Not being a big believer in tact, I swore silently at the lost opportunity to overhear more. The men both jumped and swung around to face us, Eric looking startled for just a moment while Wes turned a becoming shade of red.

"Sorry to interrupt, guys," Katie said, eyeing their expressions.

"You aren't..."

"We're not..."

They both spoke at the same time, and both stumbled to a stop, glancing at each other. Eric's face darkened into an expression that was unusually rock-like even for him, and he abruptly stomped away. Wes mumbled something about finding Jen and took off in the opposite direction.

"What was that all about?" I wondered aloud. They had said 'she' - were they talking about me? What deep dark secret did Eric have that would keep us apart?

Katie shrugged, giving me a puzzled look. "Beats me."

- - -

We all went to the beach to see them off, although I would have preferred to skip the tearful goodbyes. Wes hugged each of his former teammates, and watched them vanish inside their little timeship. Jen went last of all, only a solitary tear revealing what she must be feeling as they parted again, probably forever, with a hug, a quick kiss, and a long last look.

And then all was silent as the timehole they had flown into shrank and winked out. Wes and Eric were both standing a few yards from us, looking as alone as if they were miles apart, Wes looking up into the sky, Eric staring at the ground at his feet.

"We should be going," Alyssa murmured.

"Yes, I guess we should," I answered, wondering whether to risk disturbing the two Time Force Rangers or just quietly slink off.

Cole, who's not the most perceptive guy in the world, apparently saw no problem. "Hey!" he called, walking over to them. "It's been great meeting you both. I hope we'll run into each other again."

"Yeah," Danny said under his breath, nudging me. "I bet _you_ hope you run into Eric _real_ soon."

"Shut up," I told him good-naturedly. I went to Eric and held out my hand as the others all clustered around Wes. "It's been a pleasure. Anytime you guys need our help..."

"You mean when _you_ need _our_ help," he said. We both smiled. "Look, Taylor..." He trailed off, looking uncomfortable. "We had fun, didn't we? But..."

"That's all it was. Fun." I shrugged. "No problem."

"Thanks." His eyes drifted to Wes. "So they're gone."

"Yes." I watched Wes too, as the others finished their goodbyes and started back to our cars. He glanced at us quickly and then turned his back, hands shoved in his pockets. "This has been hard for Wes."

"Yeah."

"He looks like he needs a friend." I looked up at Eric's face, seeing it soften. And then it hit me.

The way Eric had watched Wes, his eyes soft, like now. The way he had frowned at the sight of Wes with Jen. When I had made my comment about unrequited love, he had looked in Wes's direction. Even that overheard conversation at the picnic table made sense now - Wes's certainty that Eric wasn't really interested in me, Eric's 'dark' secret. So that's the way it was - I had been right about Eric's feelings, but wrong about who they were for. Too bad, as I gave up on any lingering thoughts of a fancy wedding, a house in the suburbs, and 2.5 children. Just as well. I hate the suburbs and have no time for kids. And on the bright side, I now knew exactly what my rival had that I didn't.

"A friend. Yeah, I guess he does need one about now." Eric turned to me, taking my hand again and gently squeezing it. "Thanks, Taylor. You're a nice girl. See ya." A moment later he was at Wes's side, lifting a hand and hesitating before touching his partner's shoulder.

Wes and Jen's situation sucked - but what would it be like, I found myself wondering, to be in love with someone you saw and worked with every day, with no hope of having your feelings returned? Unrequited love, indeed, of the worst kind.

But... I saw Wes turn his head, his eyes meeting Eric's and softening in just that same way, as his face lit up with such a relieved, grateful, and warm smile that it made my heart leap with the wish that someone would someday smile at _me_ like that. Without a word, only that shared look, they started away side by side. And I remembered again the closeness I had seen between them. Wes's frown when he saw me with Eric. His anger that could almost have been - jealousy.

Unrequited? I wonder. And call me a hopeless romantic, but - I hope it isn't.

TBC...


	8. Second Thoughts 'thrill'

Wes, Eric, and all other characters from Power Rangers belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.  
Anyone you don't recognize is mine.

Rated T: language, violence, sexual content including m/m sexual relationships.

**A/N:** This is a response to the Power Rangers Slash Write 22 challenge, a slash-oriented romance theme challenge. A link to the challenge site on LiveJournal is in my profile.

Reviews are always appreciated.

**Extra special A/N:** My story 'Red Fire' takes place between the last chapter and this one. In 'Red Fire' Wes and Eric's relationship goes through some big changes - if you haven't read that, at this point you're going to be confused!

**Turns in the Road**

* * *

Second Thoughts

- - -

As he had so many times in the last year, Wes Collins ran a thumb over the glass covering the fading Polaroid he kept in a small frame on his bedside table, as if to smooth out the traces of crumpling it still bore. "Trip... Katie... Lucas..." he whispered. Last of all his eyes lingered on the small, smiling image of a pretty, brown-haired young woman as she seemed to look back at him from the past they had shared, as if from a different life. "Jen."

Another moment. Then he said very softly, "Goodbye," tucked the picture into a drawer, closed it, and lay back on the bed with a sigh.

Goodbye. Somehow it was more final than when he had said it to the living people in that picture, so long ago. In some ways he felt he was saying goodbye to his own past, to his old ways of thinking, and perhaps of living. As of that day, everything had changed.

"But why? _I _haven't changed," he told the ceiling. "Or have I?"

_Maybe I have. Am I a different person because I finally stopped hiding from myself? Because I wanted to be with Eric? Because I had sex with him? _

_I'm not defined by who I sleep with. Am I?_

The ceiling held no answers. He turned his head, eyes drawn to the telephone. Eric... Eric would know. Or would he? He was just as human as anyone else. He didn't have all the answers. _Even if he thinks he does,_ Wes added with a smile. He started to reach for the phone, and then hesitated. He had left Eric's house less than two hours ago. Too soon to call. Too soon.

- - -

Too soon, that's what Eric told himself as his hand paused over the phone and then reluctantly withdrew. Much too soon to call. It would just look - weird. In fact, just _wanting_ to call felt strange. Was this what love did to you? Made every moment spent apart seem like an empty, meaningless waste of time? So stupid. Eric shook his head.

All these years he had been in love with Wes, and yet it had never felt like this. Whoever said having something was a lot different from wanting it was right. Having meant being afraid of losing what you had. Having meant wanting more, and feeling like it would never be enough. The person who said love is like an addiction was right too. A wonderful, happy, thrilling addiction if everything went right - but what if it didn't?

What if all this turned out to be a mistake? What if it didn't work out; what if one of them wanted to break up some day? What if this made it impossible for the two of them to work together? What would happen if - when - Wes's father found out? That could mean serious trouble. _Complications, problems... Is this really what I want?_

- - -

Wes shifted restlessly on the bed, ignoring a twinge from his still healing ribs. Here he was, after one of the most important events of his life, unable to talk about it to anyone. In a home where he suddenly seemed no longer to fit, facing the fact that now he had something to hide from the people closest to him. Again he smiled, grimly this time, as he realized this was his first real taste of something Eric had lived with for most of his life. Secrecy. Someday Wes would have to tell his father. But not now, not yet, not when he was still trying to get used to the idea himself.

_Secrets. Lies. Is this really what I want? _

_Yes, it must be..._ _Not like I didn't think about it for weeks. Not like I didn't plan it, and go through it a thousand times in my mind. Why am I wondering about it now? _

_Because reality is different. Now I have to face the consequences, and wonder why I'm doing this. _

Why? Because sex with Eric was somehow thrilling in a way it never had been with a woman? That much was true... He could almost still feel it, the excitement of Eric's touch on his skin, the way Eric's body had felt under his own exploring fingers, sending hot echoes of pleasure vibrating through him. And yet, sex was only a part of it. Eric had been right, he realized. It wasn't so much who you had sex with as who you dreamed of, who you wanted to wake up with, who you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. Who you fell in love with.

At one time he had thought all of those were Jen, even after it was Eric who had begun to fill his thoughts and haunt his dreams. How could he know it was Eric now? He had been so sure while they were together, when they made love, when they reluctantly parted with a few last, lingering kisses - since he had to go home so his father wouldn't suspect, and inside Eric's door since they couldn't let the neighbors see - and when he had driven away with a last look back. Up until the moment he had turned into the driveway of his house - his father's house - and suddenly it had seemed as if he was returning to the reality of his everyday life, waking from some exciting but fading dream.

- - -

"Dammit..." Eric muttered, glaring at the telephone as his hand seemed to ache with wanting to pick it up, dial that familiar number, and dispel the cloud of doubts with the sound of Wes's voice. And that was the answer, wasn't it? Whatever problems their relationship might bring, he wanted it anyway.

He had been wondering about his own feelings - but what about Wes? What if Wes was having second thoughts? What if he changed his mind? What if he climbed back into his closet and shut the door so tight it would never open again? What if even their friendship was destroyed?

A feeling close to panic brought Eric to the phone again. He reached out - hesitated - and slowly let his hand drop to his side. No, after everything Wes had gone through to get to this point, he would have to make his decisions on his own, without persuasion or interference which he might end up resenting. All Eric could do for now was wait - and hope.

- - -

Wes opened his eyes. He needed someone to talk to, and he knew who it had to be. And that was an answer to some of his questions in itself, wasn't it? Eric's was the one voice he wanted to hear, and Eric was the one person he trusted to understand. Eric... What was he doing right now? What was he thinking? _If I call, will I sound too eager? Too desperate? Too needy? Will he be glad if I call, or annoyed?_

Maybe it would be better to wait, and let Eric call first.

But no - he wouldn't. Wes knew that with a sudden deep certainty that touched him with the knowledge of how well he knew his partner and friend. No, Eric realized how difficult it had been for Wes to face this truth about himself, and he wouldn't push. He would let Wes make the next move.

And he also knew now was the time for that move. Wes picked up the phone and dialed.

"_Hello?"_

Wes felt that same thrill as he heard his partner's voice, making his breath come faster and his heart leap, melting away all his uncertainties with its reminder of fulfillment and its promise for the future. He smiled. "Hi."

"_Hey."_ Eric's voice dropped into a lower, more intimate tone. "_I'm glad you called."_

"Are you? I was afraid you'd think it was stupid to call so soon."

There was a chuckle. "_I was afraid of the same thing."_

"So... what's new since a couple of hours ago?"

"_Not much. What have you been doing?"_

"Thinking."

"_What about?"_

"About... this. About us. Kind of asking myself a lot of questions."

"_Yeah?"_ There was a pause, and when Eric went on Wes could hear the anxiety almost hidden under the surface of his voice. "_And... have you gotten any answers?"_

"All the important ones, I guess. Except one. Maybe you can help me out with that right now."

"_What is it?"_

"How soon can we get together again?"

TBC...


	9. Sparks 'atmosphere'

Wes, Eric, and all other characters from Power Rangers belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.  
Anyone you don't recognize is mine.

Rated T: language, violence, sexual content including m/m sexual relationships.

**A/N:** This is a response to the Power Rangers Slash Write 22 challenge, a slash-oriented romance theme challenge. A link to the challenge site on LiveJournal is in my profile.

Reviews are always appreciated.

**Special A/N:** This chapter takes place after my fic 'Fall From Grace', and mentions events from that story.

**Turns in the Road**

* * *

Sparks

- - -

Wes knew trouble was on the way even before his father opened his mouth. The uncharacteristic silence, the thoughtful expression, the uncertain little glances...

"Is something wrong, Dad?"

"No. Well, maybe. Wes... There's something we need to discuss."

"What is it?" But he thought he knew that too. And he remembered the last few 'discussions' they had had.

The first had been only several weeks ago, when Wes had finally gotten up the courage to tell his father the secret he had been hiding for months. So many times he had imagined that scene, imagined himself saying the words, 'Dad, I'm gay, and Eric and I love each other,' fearing shock and rejection, hoping for - not happiness at the news, that would be too much to expect, but at least acceptance. None of his imagined scenarios had prepared him for the real thing, which had quickly turned to disbelief, anger, and accusations. They had made it up since then - Wes smiled a little at the memory of a rare apology - but harsh words, once spoken, are not easily forgotten.

There had been no more talk on that particular subject. Wes's revelation and his father's first reactions had disappeared into silence, the knowledge hovering over their lives like an invisible wall between them. Until now.

"Wes, son..." Collins turned his eyes towards the front of the limousine, as if to make sure the soundproof partition between them and Philips, in the driver's seat, was in place.

Wes followed his glance impatiently. He wasn't worried about their faithful family butler; he had the distinct impression that Philips not only knew, but might have known before Wes himself had. "Better hurry, Dad," he said. "We've only got a twenty minute drive to Bio-Lab."

"I know." Collins faced him now with the look of a man facing something unpleasant but necessary. "Wes, it's about - about you and Eric."

"What about us?" Wes could hear the defensive tone in his voice and tried to keep his face neutral.

"It's about your - relationship."

"_What_ about our relationship?"

"Now, son, you know I'm not judging either of you-"

"Like you did before?" Again Wes heard resentment in his own voice and saw the pained expression on his father's face. He sighed, turning his head to look out of the car window at the passing street as Collins' voice went on.

"I've said I'm sorry, and I meant it. What I'm talking about now is not how I feel about it."

_Meaning you still don't like it._ But Wes turned back, and nodded. "Okay. Go on."

"As you know, Bio-Lab has a policy about - uh - couples working together."

A dawning suspicion narrowed Wes's eyes. "And?"

"And you and Eric have - well - that kind of relationship now. And you're working together."

Wes couldn't quite keep the irritation he felt from showing in a sarcastic tone as he answered, "And as _you_ know, that rule applies to married couples. As you also know, Eric and I couldn't get married even if we wanted to. So what are you talking about?"

"Now, Wesley, I'm trying to have a reasonable discussion here..."

"Oh, boy..." Wes didn't even try to keep the annoyance out of his voice this time. "Every time you call me 'Wesley' I know you're about to talk to me like I'm ten years old."

"You're absolutely right, Wes, you're not a child." Collins smiled slightly, as if he thought he had won a point. "You're a man now, an adult, and as an adult you should be putting your personal feeling aside and thinking about the good of the company."

"Are you sure it's not _your_ personal feelings here? Would you be saying this if Eric and I were a man and a woman?"

"Of course." Collins waited for Wes to look directly at him. "I know I reacted badly. I know I still have a problem with it. We all have biases and prejudices, even the best of us, and I'm far from the best. But I'm trying; I'm working on it."

It _sounded_ sincere, but... "Then why are you bringing this up?" Wes demanded. "Eric and I aren't breaking any rules."

"Maybe not technically, but in spirit, in the purpose of the rule..." Collins waved a hand in the general direction of Bio-Lab, which they were rapidly approaching. "There's a reason couples shouldn't work closely together, especially in an organization like the Guardians. What if your feelings for Eric affect your judgment in a crisis? What if you're not willing to let him go into a dangerous situation when necessary? What if one of you can't stay cool in a crisis because you're worried about the other?"

"The same thing applies to you, Dad," Wes said with an ironic smile. "You run the company, including the Guardians. What if someday you're not willing to let _me_ go into danger when necessary?"

Collins frowned. "It's not the same thing."

"How?"

"Well... Okay, you've got a point. But - I let you go off alone to fight Doomtron, remember. That was one of the hardest things I've ever done - but I've proven I can handle it."

Wes leaned towards him. "Remember, Eric let me go then, too. Haven't we proven how well we work together, both as Rangers and as Guardians?"

"Sure, but that was before you started this - this relationship. It's my responsibility to wonder about how that's going to affect the Guardians and the company."

Wes withdrew back into his seat. This was totally unfair... and yet... had he done exactly what his father was talking about on the mission they had so recently returned from, in the far future? Had he acted foolishly by risking his life to rescue Eric? But it had turned out to be the right choice, hadn't it? Still, it could so easily have gone wrong... No, he had risked only himself, not the mission, and he would still stand by that decision.

"I don't see how Eric or me leaving is going to help the company," he muttered.

Collins held up a hand. "Hold on, I didn't say anything about anyone leaving. You and Eric are two of my most valuable employees. I know what you're thinking, but I'm not doing this to try to separate you."

"Coulda fooled me."

"Wes..."

"All right, you're just thinking of the Guardians and the company. But I think you're wrong. Eric and I can handle this."

"It's not just you." Collins sighed again. "You asked if I'd say the same thing if you and Eric were a man and a woman. Yes, I would. But there's another problem, and it's got everything to do with the fact that you're both men. What about the Silver Guardians? If they find out about you two, how are they going to take it? How many of them are going to decide they don't want to work with you anymore?"

Wes had turned his head to stare out the window, jaw clenching, his father's words recalling Eric's almost identical warnings a few weeks ago. Now he looked up again, his eyes hard. "That's _their_ problem, isn't it? Not ours."

"If enough of them feel that way it's your problem, too, and Eric's, and mine."

"Well..." Wes looked blindly out to the street again. "I don't know. But there's no reason for them to find out. Not like Eric and I are going to make out in front of them."

"I would certainly hope you'd keep that kind of thing out of Bio-Lab."

Wes frowned; wishing circumstances weren't forcing them into these rides together twice a day, to and from work. Not for the first time, he wondered whether it wouldn't be better to move out, just get away from the stifling atmosphere that had pervaded his home. But where? What he'd really like would be to move in with Eric, but that might invite suspicions about their relationship. Eric would never go for it. Besides, he wasn't at all sure they were ready to work together _and_ live together. That left living alone, which was less appealing to Wes than just staying where he was and hoping things would get better.

"Well, if you're not planning to kick one of us out, what do you suggest?" he asked.

"There are a few options." Collins hesitated only for a moment. "You could phase out your Guardian duties and get more involved in the business side."

"Is that what this is all about?" Wes gave a harsh snort of laughter. "You know I'm no businessman, Dad. I love working with the Guardians, and I want to keep on doing it. _With_ Eric."

"At least think about it. We don't have to do anything right away."

"And _I_ don't think we need to do anything at all."

Philips' voice from the car intercom interrupted the brief silence that followed. "We're here, sirs." Wes came out of his own thoughts to see that they were pulling into the entrance to Bio-Lab. "Do you wish me to park in the Silver Guardians' garage?"

Collins leaned forward and pressed the button to lower the partition between them. "Just drop me off, Philips."

"No." Wes frowned at his father. "Yes, Philips, the garage. We'll get out there, Dad, and I'll escort you to your office."

"Just because some nutcase made a couple of threats, I have to rearrange my life," Collins grumbled.

"It's more than 'some nutcase'. Whoever it is already blew up one of our warehouses. Just luck that no one was killed. We have to take the threats you've gotten seriously."

"I don't like having guards hanging over me all the time."

"I guess that includes _me_."

"No, of course not." Collins produced a smile and dropped a hand on Wes's knee as the car slowed to a stop in the Silver Guardians' garage, a large, secure facility used for parking, servicing, loading, and fueling their black SUVs and other vehicles. "You're probably sick of babysitting me, though."

"Just doing my job," Wes said without a smile.

He saw a trace of hurt cross his father's eyes and looked away, watching as a uniformed Silver Guardian, apparently the only one in the garage at the moment, hit the switch that lowered the sliding doors they had driven through and then came to attention and started towards their car. There was movement in the front seat as Philips reached to open his car door and began to get out.

And then the world exploded.

- - -

Wes didn't understand it at all. Why was he lying in some strange, dark place? Why was the air so dusty that it made him choke? What was that sharp, pungent smell? Why was he lying on something lumpy, instead of... instead of...

The car. The garage. The explosion.

"Oh, God!" Wes pushed himself up, wincing as his head hit something. The 'something lumpy' he had been lying on... "Dad!" he cried frantically. "Dad, can you hear me?"

"Wes - Wes - yes - are you all right?"

"Yeah. Are you okay?" Wes moved back as far as he could, and saw the dim form of his father straighten and climb back into the car seat with a groan. "Are you hurt?"

"A few bruises, I guess. It's nothing. What happened?"

"An explosion. Dammit, how could someone get in here to plant a bomb?"

A moan from the front seat cut off his father's response. "Philips!" Collins exclaimed. "Philips, are you all right?" He slid forward and tried to lean over the seat back, cursing as his head banged into the car roof that Wes could see had partially collapsed above them.

Wes was already struggling with the door, which stuck stubbornly until he kicked it open. Outside, he paused, looking around. The lights were out and the air was thick with a dusty haze, but as his eyes adjusted the small, high windows let in enough sunlight to let him make out his surroundings.

The garage was a shambles, littered with pieces of debris and chunks of plaster from the ceiling. Several of the black SUVs had been thrown and tumbled onto their sides or upside down. At least one had been blown apart; he could see fragments of metal. And there was a sound - of liquid running... and that smell, even stronger now.

"Dad," he said tensely. "Don't try to turn the lights on. And don't use your cellphone."

"What? What is it?"

"Gasoline. One of the tanks or pumps we use to gas up the cars must be leaking, or maybe some of the cars themselves. Can't you smell it?"

"Yeah, you're right, I do."

"The air's full of fumes, and the slightest spark could set it off. Lights, definitely. Cellphone - I don't know, but better safe than blown up." Wes took a few more steps, dismayed as his boot splashed into wetness. "Damn, it's running over the floor!"

Wes returned to the car and leaned into the front seat. While he and his father had been partially protected by their closed car door, Philips had been getting out when the explosion happened. He had gotten the full impact and apparently been knocked back into the front seat of the car, where he was now lying. Alive, but hurt. "Philips!" he called. There was no answer beyond another moan.

Collins was out now too, and standing at Wes's side. "Can you see anything?" he asked. "How bad is he?"

"Don't know," Wes answered shortly. "He may have hit his head on the steering wheel." He stepped back. "Keep talking to him, but don't try to move him. I've got to find Johnson."

"The Guardian we saw?" Collins' voice was grim. "Okay. Be careful."

Wes found only rubble where he vaguely remembered seeing Johnson just before the blast. He paused, trying to think. From the pattern of debris, the explosion had come from near the doors leading to the main building, probably from one of the SUVs which had been parked in a row. He moved in that direction and then stopped, fighting off a wave of dizziness. The destruction was worse than he had thought - lucky for them there had been a couple of large trucks in the way or they'd probably all be dead.

He turned back and picked his way, searching - and found Johnson by almost stumbling over him. The Guardian was almost invisible, lying unmoving and covered with dust and plaster. Wes cleared the worst of it away with a couple of sweeps of his arm and knelt over him. Not enough light to watch for breathing. He leaned close to the man's face and felt a whisper of breath even as his fingers found a weak and thready pulse. Alive. But for how long? The floor was wet with gasoline. The fumes were getting stronger; the danger of another, more devastating explosion and the resulting fire was getting more immediate.

They needed help. Someone was bound to arrive any time, and they would have no idea of how dangerous the situation was. Plus Eric or one of the other Guardians would probably try to phone at any moment. He had to contact them first. Get out and head them off. Climbing to his feet again, Wes stumbled in the direction of the doors, past where he estimated the explosion had originated.

And backed away as he saw the remains of at least two SUVs in a jumble of rubble, wedged against the exit and effectively sealing it. No good. He crossed the room to the vehicle entrance leading to the outside - there was no power to raise the doors, of course - struggled to raise them manually, heaving at the handles only to have his sweat-slippery hands lose their grip, scraping painfully in the process.

"Can't you get them open?"

The voice startled Wes. He turned to see his father behind him. "No. They must be jammed."

"Come on, I'll help you."

A minute or two later they were both panting with effort but no closer to rescue. "No good," Wes gasped. He leaned against the door.

"You can Ranger up and get them open, can't you?"

"Too risky. Morphing - there's a flash of energy. Could set off the gas." Wes looked around the room. "We're trapped. Johnson's hurt pretty bad."

"Philips is conscious now, at least."

"How is he?"

"I think you're right; he hit his head. And I think his shoulder is broken or dislocated. I told him not to move." Collins took a deeper breath, and coughed. "Wes, we can't take these fumes much longer. I'm feeling sick and lightheaded already."

"Yeah, you're right. I thought it was shock - but it's the gasoline... toxic fumes. We have to get out of here."

"Why isn't someone here already? The Guardians, and a medical team?"

"The door's blocked. They're probably trying to get in right now, but they don't know what they'll be walking into." Wes raised his arm. "The communicator in my morpher should be safe to use. I hope. Dad, you'd better get back in the car, just in case."

He could barely see his father give him an ironic smile. "Not much point, is there, if this whole place goes up? I'll stay."

Wes returned the smile before raising the morpher to his face. "Eric!" he called. "Eric, can you hear me?"

"_Wes!"_ The familiar voice came almost immediately. "_Wes, there's been an explosion in the SG garage. Where are you?"_

"I know. I'm inside."

"_You're... You're where?" _

"I'm in the garage, and so is Dad. And Philips. And Johnson, he was on duty."

"_Shit! Are you okay?"_

"For now. So's Dad, but Philips is hurt, and Johnson is pretty bad off."

"_Damn. Wes, we're on our way, but the doors are blocked."_

"I know. There's cars lying up against them. The outer doors won't open, either; I guess they're jammed."

"_Can you morph and knock them down?"_

"No. Something's leaking gasoline in here. It's all over the floor. That's why I didn't use my cellphone, and morphing might set it off too. Eric... the fumes are pretty bad. We have to get out soon."

"_And we can't use drills or anything electric. Nothing metal either; that could cause a spark. Damn!"_ There was a brief pause, with several voices murmuring in the background. "_Okay, listen. The outer doors are reinforced; we're not going to break through them anytime soon. The windows are too small for a man to get through. We're going to have to use rubber mallets to break a hole in the wall."_

"Understood."

"_And Wes - we have to turn off the ventilation system. The motors could spark the gas. We could try to open the vent windows but gasoline vapor is heavier than air; wouldn't do much good. It's going to get worse in there."_

Wes took a deep breath, the choking reminder of the poisonous air they were trapped in doing nothing to calm him down. "Okay. Got it. How long?"

"_As soon as we can."_ Eric's voice lowered just a little. "_Hang in there, okay? I'll get back to you in a few minutes."_

Wes smiled faintly. "Will do. Stay in touch."

Wes lowered his arm and stood for a moment, trying to think. He closed his eyes, but opened them when a wave of dizziness swept through his head, making his stomach twist uneasily. In fact, he had been feeling queasy for the last few minutes. That smell, so strong - and the vapors were affecting him, he realized. He'd feel sicker and sicker, fade away into the sleepiness that was already creeping over him, and finally just lose consciousness, maybe forever...

"Wes?"

He turned to see Collins, still beside him. There was more to worry about than just himself: there were three people who were counting on him to keep them alive. For a moment it hit Wes hard as he looked up into his father's face, now drawn and fearful in the dim light. All his life his father had been the strong one, the powerful one, the one who took care of everything. Now, more than ever, everything had turned around, and Wes again found himself in the role of protector.

_Just doing my job._ His own words came back, making him smile inwardly. This was his job, and more; it was what he knew he was meant to do.

"It's okay, Dad. They're going to break through a wall. We just have to wait. I'm going to see if I can shut off that gasoline leak." Not that he had much hope, but it gave him something to do.

"I'll go with you."

Wes rubbed his stinging eyes and tried to blink the fogginess out of them as he stepped over chunks of rubble. The sound of running liquid had subsided into a steady dripping, which led him to one of the two fueling stations. He swayed, trying to see, but all he could make out was a jumble of metal and hoses. "Can't tell where it's coming from," he muttered.

"No... Nothing we can do..." Collins said, his voice hoarse. "Go back to the car... Wait, like Eric said..."

It seemed to be getting darker, and warmer, the polluted atmosphere of the garage turning into a hot blanket of haze, smothering him. Wes put a hand over his nose and mouth, trying vainly to get a breath of good air. There was a chirping sound. As he blinked in confusion, it came again. His morpher, he realized, and quickly raised it to his face.

"Eric?"

"_Yeah, it's me. Wait a second... Dr. Zaskin's here. He wants to talk to you."_

"Okay."

Dr. Zaskin's concerned voice came from the morpher a moment later. "_Wes? Wes, how bad is it in there?"_

"Bad. Gasoline over most of the floor. Don't know how much longer we can take these fumes."

"_Wes, listen to me. The fumes aren't going to kill you before we can get you out, but they may make you lose consciousness. Just avoid contact with the gasoline. Make sure you don't fall into it or get it on you. You can absorb enough toxins through your skin to - to be harmful."_

"Johnson!" Wes exclaimed. "He's on the floor, lying in it."

"_That's bad. He'll need medical attention, and quickly."_

"I left him... Didn't think I should move him... Didn't want to - to make it worse..."

"_Wes,"_ Eric's voice had returned. "_It's okay, but you'll have to get him off the floor anyway."_

"I guess... but..."

"_Wes! Wes, listen to me. The fumes are getting to you. Just hang on for a few more minutes. As soon as we find out where there's no pipes and beams in the wall, I'll morph and break through."_

Wes steadied himself with a hand on the side of a ruined SUV. "Eric - be careful, okay? Don't rush it. I don't want anyone else getting hurt, including you."

"_Don't worry about us." _Eric's voice was warm. "_I'll keep everyone back, and come in first. The suit should protect me if... well, it should protect me."_

"I hope so," Wes said reluctantly. "Just - just be careful."

"_Try to find someplace you can seal off. Inside one of the cars or trucks, maybe."_

Wes tried to focus, scanning the vehicles. All damaged. Someplace closed off. Someplace better than out here. "The office!" he exclaimed. "The back office. Not much damage back there, should be okay."

"_Good! Good idea."_ There was a pause. "_Wes... I gotta go, but I'll see ya in a few minutes. Hear me?"_

"We'll be waiting," Wes whispered, and closed his eyes, just for an instant, before lowering his arm and looking around decisively. "Come on, Dad. We've got to help Philips and Johnson."

- - -

"Terrorist-proof." Collins chuckled quietly. "Reinforced walls and doors. Everything electronically controlled. Those little windows, up too high to do us any good anyway, screened and sealed in case of a gas attack. We made the place almost impossible to break into. Never thought I'd end up regretting it."

"You haven't 'ended up' yet, Dad. We'll get out." Wes tried to smile reassuringly.

They had found the tiny office almost undamaged, except for a spiderweb of cracks in the shatterproof glass of the windowed front wall. The air inside had been noticeably clearer. They had helped a semi-conscious Philips inside, trying not to hear his tense gasps of pain. Then the delicate task of carrying Johnson while keeping his head, neck, and back as straight and motionless as possible - with Wes feeling grateful for the endless drills in first-aid and rescue procedures that Eric had insisted he go through. In the process he suspected they had brought a good deal of the fumes with them, but it was still an improvement. Now there was nothing more to do but wait.

"Wes?"

"Huh?" Wes realized he had been drifting. The drowsiness was back, worse than before. "What, Dad?"

"Want you to know... You've acted like a real pro through this whole thing. I'm proud of you."

"Yeah? Thanks. You've been great, too." Wes grinned, surprised at how pleased he felt. After all the ways he knew he had disappointed his father... By being gay? _Nothing to be ashamed of,_ he told himself, of course not, and yet - he still felt badly about it... _We all have our biases and prejudices... I still have my own, don't I? Even against myself..._ Something to work on, to change, if they got out... _When_ they got out...

Faint and far away, Wes heard chirping again. He raised his arm to stare blearily at his morpher before answering, "Hello?"

"_Wes? Wes, how are you holding up?"_

"We're okay... I guess..."

"_Are your dad, and Philips, and Johnson with you?"_

"Yeah."

"_Are they okay?"_

"I guess... Hope so, anyway." He turned his head. His father was slumped against a wall, coughing weakly. Philips and Johnson were lying nearby. Couldn't tell if they were still breathing.

"_We're about to break in. You're all going to be all right, Wes. Just another minute, and I'll be there."_

"Yeah, see ya... in a minute..." Wes let his arm fall.

"Wes..." His father's voice was low, but surprisingly steady. "You and Eric. You're a natural team. Want you to know... I was wrong... you two should be together... on the job and off..."

"Thanks, Dad," Wes tried to say, but the words came out in a mumble. The warm blanket of fog was back, lifting him until he was floating peacefully, drifting slowly away from that small office, and the smell of gasoline, and Bio-Lab... and Eric... He felt a vague pang of regret.

Now his head was pounding - but not painfully - vaguely Wes realized the sound was outside his head, not inside. There was a thumping, a banging, and a crashing. Voices. An odd whooshing. With detached curiosity he looked through the windowed wall to see what he assumed was an hallucination - a figure in red, armed with a canister and hose, followed by several more in bulky white outfits like space suits. All of them were spraying a cascade of white, foamy liquid over the floor where it piled up in drifts like soapsuds. He chuckled softly. It looked funny.

The person in tight red and black headed straight for them, spraying a path of foam as he came, and then tossed his canister aside before bursting through the office door. Eric took a moment to check on Collins, Philips, and Johnson before kneeling at Wes's side, reaching out to grip his shoulder as more of the white-suited people crowded in after him. "Wes?" he asked, voice rough.

"About time," Wes murmured, before quietly allowing himself to pass out at last.

- - -

"Repairs are coming along on schedule, sir," Eric said. Wes, standing beside him, glanced at his profile: face blank, as professional and impersonal as his voice. "The spilled gasoline has been neutralized with biochemical agents and cleaned up. We'll be getting the floor and foundations inspected for contamination before using the garage again. The underground gas tanks are undamaged; all the leaking came from a pump that was hit by a piece of debris, so at least we don't have to replace them. Several of the SG vehicles are beyond repair, though."

"How's Guardian Johnson doing?" Collins asked.

A trace of emotion crossed Eric's face. "He's being discharged from the hospital tomorrow. I've put him on indefinite medical leave, but the doctors think he'll make a fairly good recovery."

"That's good news, at least."

"And Philips is doing well," Wes added.

"Yes, he's already insisting on getting back to work, with his arm in a sling." Collins smiled. "I suppose we were lucky."

"At least we got the guy," Eric said with grim satisfaction. "Clever of him to get his own car fixed at the same place where we get our SUV's serviced, and to plant his bomb in one of them. But not so clever that a couple of the mechanics didn't notice him poking around where he wasn't supposed to be."

"And since they had his name and address," Wes added, "it wasn't hard to get a search warrant and find all the evidence we need, including the remote detonator he used from across the street to set off the explosion when our limo arrived. In a way you were right, Dad; he's just a nutcase who hates big business in general and Bio-Lab in particular."

"Nice work by everyone involved," Collins said briskly. "But that bomb should never have gotten inside Bio-Lab. We'll have to improve our screening procedures to make sure this kind of thing never happens again."

"Yes, sir," Eric said.

"Good. Thanks for the update." Collins turned his attention back to the printout he had been idly turning in his hands, in an obvious dismissal.

Eric saluted and started out, but Wes hung back. "I'll be out in a minute," he said to his partner. He got a curious glance in response, but Eric just nodded and continued on his way, closing the door behind him.

"Was there something else, Wes?" Collins asked absently.

"Well, yes." Wes moved closer, to stand on the other side of the desk, and waited for his father to look up inquiringly. "Dad, do you remember what you said in the garage office, just before Eric broke the wall down?"

A corner of Collins' mouth turned up. "Yes, I remember. Why?"

"Just wondering. Because I intend to hold you to that."

"Maybe I do my best thinking when I'm half-conscious. I meant what I said. You and Eric make a great team, and it's obviously to the company's advantage to keep that team together."

"To the company's advantage." Wes grinned. "I like that. Thanks, Dad."

"You're welcome. Now get back to work."

Wes saluted smartly. "Yes, sir!"

The grin got even wider when he went through the office doors to find Eric waiting. "You look happy," Eric commented with a wry look. "What was that about?"

"Nothing." Wes rested an arm over his partner's shoulders as they started away. "Nothing at all."

TBC...


	10. Buried 'rock'

Wes, Eric, and all other characters from Power Rangers belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.

Rated T: language, violence, sexual content including m/m sexual relationships.

**A/N:** This is a response to the Power Rangers Slash Write 22 challenge, a slash-oriented romance theme challenge. A link to the challenge site on LiveJournal is in my profile.

Reviews are always appreciated.

**Special A/N:** This chapter takes place after my fic 'Boxed In' and its epilog 'What Dreams May Come'. It contains spoilers for that story and mentions events from it.

**Turns in the Road**

* * *

Buried

- - -

_How many times have I been here? Dozens. So why is it so much harder this time? _

_I look at it through my car window. A beautiful, peaceful place. Trees, grass, bright sunlight spilling over the headstones. Birds are chirping; there's a warm breeze. And yet I feel the chill of the grave. _

- - -

With a frown, Eric put the phone down. No answer. Probably nothing to worry about; Wes could have a million things to do on a nice, sunny Sunday afternoon. And yet - that might explain why he didn't answer his private line at home, but not why his cellphone was going straight to messaging. He must have it turned off.

While Eric had no pretensions to being an overly sensitive person, he knew something had been bothering Wes for the last week. His partner had been quiet, and often without his usual smile. Something was off. And it was especially troubling coming now, just when it seemed like Wes had recovered from his recent ordeal.

How long had it been? Eric frowned again. Three months. No, a little more. A little over three months since Wes had been kidnapped and buried alive for five agonizing days. He had escaped; one kidnapper was dead, the other in jail. Wes had had trouble sleeping, and had been on medication and gotten off it. He claimed to be fine. Eric had faced his own problems with his fear of losing his lover, and he claimed to be fine too. They were both fine. On the surface.

But - Eric still looked at Wes sometimes and wished, just for a moment, that they had never gotten together. That he had nothing, and therefore could lose nothing. And Wes - yeah, he was fine. Except for the couple of times he had waked Eric up in the middle of the night with his nightmares. How many more times had it happened on the nights they didn't spend together?

And now, today? Normally Eric wouldn't have worried - but some deep instinct told him something was wrong. After all, this was a special day.

- - -

_I can't face her. Not yet. Not if I'm going to look at her name carved in gray stone and picture her down there cold and dead, alone, rotting, the worms... No! _

_So I turn away. Start walking aimlessly. And somehow my feet lead me to another spot, to another name written above two dates. This time the second one is recent, only a little over three months ago. This grave isn't as nice as hers, or as well cared for, and it's hidden away in a corner behind some trees as if its occupant should be ashamed to be here. As I stand over it I wonder if anyone else has stood in this spot, if anyone loved this man or cares that he's gone. _

- - -

"Hello?"

"Eric, I hate to call you at home on a weekend like this, but..."

"Mr. Collins? Is something wrong?"

"It's probably nothing."

"Go on. What's the problem?"

"It's Wes. As I said, probably nothing to worry about."

"Wes?" Eric hesitated. "I tried to call him a little while ago. He didn't answer his bedroom phone, and I think he has his cell turned off."

"I'm not surprised."

"Do you know where he is?"

"Yes, I think I do."

- - -

_Christopher Watson. Chris Watson. What were you like? I know there's no simple answer to that. You were a thief, and a kidnapper, but you died because you didn't want to be a murderer. _

_It's strange, how I feel when I look down at his grave. I never even met the guy, not really, unless you count being shot full of drugs by someone as a meeting. I should hate him, I guess, but I can't. I look down, and I wonder what he was like. Oh, I know what he looked like - about my size, about my build, enough that his body was mistaken for mine. But who was he? What did he think about, what did he dream of, why did he do the things he did? Why do I feel a connection between us? _

- - -

"It's Mother's Day."

"I know," Eric said. "I thought Wes has been a little - depressed lately, and I thought maybe that's why."

"I'm sure it is." The older man's voice was thoughtful, and concerned. "And I suspect that's where he's gone. He always goes to visit his mother's grave, every year."

"You didn't go with him?"

"No. I go on our anniversary. We both go on her birthday. Ever since Wes was old enough to make the trip by himself, this has been - sort of his day to be alone with her, if you know what I mean." Collins sighed. "I offered to go along this time, because of what happened, but he didn't want me to."

"He wouldn't, if he's worried..." Eric trailed off. If Wes was worried about his own reactions to visiting a graveyard after being buried in one himself, he certainly wouldn't want his father to be a witness.

"Right." There was another pause. "Eric, if I go after him, I'm not sure how he'll take it. But if _you_ were to happen to show up..."

"You think he wouldn't get mad at me, too?" Eric snorted faintly.

Collins' voice was wryly amused. "I'm his father. You're... not his father. And that makes a big difference."

"I'm not an expert on fathers, but I guess so. Okay, I'm on my way."

- - -

_Chris... In a way, he died instead of me. If he had gone along with Russell, I'd be the one who's dead now. I'd be the one inside that coffin. It could so easily be him up here and me down there. _

_I look down, and for a moment it's like I can see through earth and stone and coffin. I see him lying there, trapped inside with no air and no space, with no life and no hope... and he's me. _

- - -

Eric had no trouble finding Mrs. Collins' grave; it was in the shade of a grove of trees, in the center of a large lot on the side of a gentle slope. No sign of Wes. He took a moment to scan the area carefully. Nothing. If Wes hadn't come here, then where? And how to find him?

He was about to turn back to his car when his eyes fell on the headstone. _'Kathleen Collins. Loving wife and mother.'_ What had she been like? As kind-hearted and generous as Wes? Eric had seen her picture in Wes's room many times, and now he found himself trying to picture her in life, her eyes as blue and bright as Wes's, her smile as wide, her laughter as cheerful. He bent his head for a moment in respect for a woman he had never met, except in the form of her son.

It was when he lifted it again for a last glance around the cemetery that it hit him. Hers wasn't the only grave Wes might have an interest in. It was worth checking out. Eric fished in his memory for the location, and then started walking.

- - -

I look in horror at my own face, staring back in fear and pleading, silently begging to be let out. And then I'm looking up from the coffin, unable to move, to breathe, the weight of six feet of dirt pressing me down, the cold of the grave, the stillness of death, and I hear a small and terrified sound.

- - -

Wes swayed unsteadily, the fresh air and bright sunshine turning into darkness and the stifling smell of dank earth. He put out a hand and felt hard, rough wood - it was all around, above, on every side, under his back as he cried out and beat on the unyielding walls with his fists...

"Wes! Wes!"

Hands grabbed his arms, pulling him back upright and giving him a slight shake. Wes gasped in fear. There was no one here, no one to save him; he was all alone in the box, locked up underground. No one, just a coffin closing in around him... He shut his eyes tight, struggling blindly to get free.

"Wes! Wes, it's okay. You're safe now; everything's okay." Arms were wrapped around him, pulling him back from the dark and cold.

Light seeped through Wes's closed lids. A soft breeze cooled his face and ruffled his hair. Sound returned: birds, the sough of wind in the treetops. He was free and alive. Safe, although his heart still hammered and his breath came fast and hard. He opened his eyes to see Eric's face, anxiously peering into his. "Eric?" he asked unsteadily.

"Yeah... Are you all right?"

"I'm not sure," Wes said slowly. "I just... I felt like..."

"What?"

Wes tried to shrug him off. "Nothing. I'm fine."

Eric tightened his grip. "Yeah, right, you're fine. Tell me what happened."

"I don't want to talk about it!"

"There were things I didn't want to talk about, remember?" Eric's voice was challenging. "But you made me do it, and I'm glad you did. Well, the shoe's on the other foot now. Spill it."

Wes couldn't help smiling. "Spill it? That's a great bedside manner you've got there."

"We'll talk bed later." But Eric gave him the ghost of a smile and let go, hesitating before asking, "It was being _here_, wasn't it? A cemetery. And this grave."

"Yes..." Wes shivered, and turned away, continuing in a low voice. "I felt like I was back there. In the box. Like it was happening all over again. It was... I couldn't breathe. I couldn't see. I just felt the walls, all around." He glanced back at Eric. "I don't understand. It was so real, like my nightmares, but I wasn't asleep. I could see it, and feel it, and smell it, just like I had been put back there." He shuddered. "Or like I never really left, and being _out_ is just a dream..."

"Wes." Eric was closer, bracing his shoulders with a supporting arm, talking to him with quiet firmness. "It's post-traumatic stress. Flashbacks, like waking dreams. It's not unusual for people who've been through something like you have."

It came out with a choked and humorless laugh, almost before Wes was aware of the thought. "You mean I'm not crazy?"

"Of course not. And you're not still in the box, and you're never going back."

"Never?"

"I promise." Eric released him and stepped back. "You gotta expect being in a place like this will bring it on. You'll feel a lot better as soon as we get out of here."

Wes frowned. "I can't leave. Not yet."

"Your mother?" When Wes nodded Eric went on. "Maybe you should skip it this year. Give it some time."

"No." Wes sighed, his eyes moving past Eric to look towards where her grave waited. "It would be giving up. Letting fear keep me away, letting it beat me. And - how do I know things would be any better next year?" He faced Eric again. "I have to do this now, or maybe I'll never be able to."

"Okay." Eric nodded. "I understand."

"Umm..." Wes eyed his partner, feeling almost shy. "Would you go with me?"

"I was about to say I'm coming whether you want me to or not."

- - -

_I read the name carved in gray stone. Looking down, I imagine the layers of earth between us, the enclosure of her coffin. My eyes close as I wonder if that nightmare image will come again to haunt me, the image of death and decay and horror... _

_I feel a touch, and look up as Eric takes my hand - not without a quick glance around to see if anyone's watching - his fingers strong and steady as they intertwine with mine. Despite his own fears he makes this revealing gesture in a public place, to support and reassure me, to be the rock I can build my courage on. _

_And when I look down again, what I see is not the cold finality of the grave, but a warm and loving presence that smiles back, and is happy for me. _

- - -

TBC...


	11. The Table 'public dining'

Wes, Eric, and all other characters from Power Rangers belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.  
Anyone you don't recognize is mine.

Rated T: language, violence, sexual content including m/m sexual relationships.

**A/N:** This is a response to the Power Rangers Slash Write 22 challenge, a slash-oriented romance theme challenge. A link to the challenge site on LiveJournal is in my profile.

**Additional A/N:** This takes place four years after 'The Secret of BioSynth', the last (so far) story in my 'Red Fire' series. The character of Lina Munroe was introduced in 'Boxed In'.

Reviews are always appreciated.

**Turns in the Road**

* * *

The Table

- - -

**_Silver Hills, late 2009_**

"I suppose you're wondering why I brought us all here."

Wes watched his father expectantly. He had been wondering exactly that ever since he had gotten the call at work, inviting him and Eric to dinner at one of Silver Hills' better restaurants. When they had arrived to find Lina Monroe waiting along with his father, his expectation that this would be a business dinner evaporated. It was replaced by the suspicion that it was some weird kind of family outing - father with girlfriend, son with boyfriend. He hid a grimace.

From the corner of his eye he saw Eric, seated next to him, frowning slightly, perhaps having the same thought. Across the table, Lina smiled at them - a little nervously, it looked like - and then looked down, the slight flush coloring her cheeks making her look surprisingly young. The sudden conviction hit him that something he wasn't going to like was about to happen. As he glanced at Eric, the dark eyes meeting his seemed to hold the same certainty.

He looked at Lina more closely this time, seeing a woman in her early fifties, dark brown hair, eyes still down-turned, a little on the plump side. Trying to see her as his father would, he supposed she was attractive in a middle-aged sort of way. She was a competent police officer, and a nice enough person. Still, it was disconcerting to see his father dating a woman. But date her he had, ever since she had worked on the case of Wes's kidnapping and almost-murder in 2004. At first Wes had assumed it wouldn't last, that sooner or later they would split up, or just quietly drift apart - but no. Five years later they were still together, and in fact seeing more of each other than ever.

He tried not to show discomfort at the sight of his father reaching for her hand, and of them smiling at each other. "Okay, Dad. What's..."

He trailed off as a young woman stopped at their table, flashing a bright smile before saying, "Good evening! I'm Reena, and I'll be your server tonight. Is there anything you'd like to start off with?"

"I think we're fine," Collins said after a glance around the table.

"Wonderful! I'll be back in a few minutes to take your orders," she said, giving them another professionally enthusiastic smile, and walked away.

Wes turned back to his father. "So go on, Dad. What's up?" he asked, carefully keeping his voice casual.

"Well, son... Eric..." Collins hesitated, with an uncertainty that seemed unlike him. "You know Lina and I have been seeing each other for a while now."

"Yeah..." Wes replied cautiously.

"Well - umm - we've decided we're serious about each other."

"Serious? How serious?"

"Very." He took a deep breath - gave Lina another alarmingly fond look - and then grinned. "We've decided to get married."

A deafening crash of silence greeted this pronouncement. Wes opened his mouth and then closed it again when he realized none of '_What the hell?'_, '_Why?'_, or '_What about Mom?'_ was likely to be a constructive addition to the conversation.

Finally, "Married?" Eric said, his voice tightly neutral.

"Yes. You know: white dress, preacher, 'I do', that kind of thing," Collins said.

"Huh." Eric eyed Lina as if doubting her right to wear white. There was more silence until he extended his hand, first to Collins and then, more reluctantly, to Lina, muttering, "Congratulations."

His partner's elbow in his ribs roused Wes a moment later. "Yeah, congratulations," he said with as much warmth as he could manage. After a brief search for something more to say, he continued, "So... when are you... uh, you know, gonna do it?"

"We're thinking next summer."

"That's really soon, isn't it?" Wes asked with a fresh wave of dismay.

"Around six months." Lina nodded. "Not a lot of time to make arrangements, but..." She stopped as Wes became aware of someone standing over their table again and looked up to see the same waitress.

"Hi again! May I tell you about our specials?" she said brightly.

"Well, we-"

"Tonight we have one of our chef's specialties, the pain de viande ala pompeux: ground beef with bread crumbs, eggs, and chopped onion, delicately spiced and baked with a light tomato topping..."

Wes tuned out the annoyingly cheerful voice as she went on. Dad. Married. This couldn't be happening. But apparently it was. Should have seen it coming. But why? Couldn't they just keep on dating? Or live together? No, that would be just as bad.

"Wes."

"Huh?"

"What do you want?" His father was looking at him expectantly.

_For you not to get married,_ was his first thought, until he realized the waitress was waiting for his order. With a glance at the menu in his hands he blurted out, "The... um... grenouille," - the first thing he saw. When everyone stared, at first he thought he had pronounced it wrong.

"Very good, sir," Reena's big smile slipped just a little, "but while marinated frogs' legs flambé are an excellent choice, they're only an appetizer."

"Is _that_ what that is? Sorry, I meant... uh..."

"Cancel the flaming frogs. He'll have the chicken," Eric said decisively.

"We have several wonderful chicken dishes. Which one would you like?"

"Any one. You decide."

"But, sir..."

"Yeah, whatever, I don't care," Wes mumbled, and handed the menu over. Her smile now decidedly wobbly, Reena nodded and left.

"Where were we?" Collins asked.

"The wedding," Lina said. "We intend to keep it small and simple. It's the second marriage for both of us, after all."

"We can have the reception at the house," Collins said. "That'll make things easier."

"The house. Right," Wes muttered. The house Lina would move into. And where did that leave _him_?

"We're still talking about where to go for our honeymoon," Lina continued. "Maybe Hawaii. Or Italy. Or France."

"Maybe all of them," Collins said with a smile. He reached for Lina's hand again. "Neither of us has ever taken much time for traveling or vacations. Let's do it now, together."

Wes looked up unwillingly. The two of them looked so dumb, gazing into each other's eyes like that, like a couple of kids in love. Disgusting, really. And yet... his father looked happy, had to admit that. Happy, relaxed, the lines of age and years of work and worry in his face softened. _Has he been looking like that around Lina all this time, and I never noticed?_

"I think I'm going to go powder my nose before dinner arrives," Lina said, breaking what Wes realized had been several seconds of uncomfortable silence.

And it continued as she walked away. Collins seemed about to speak but glanced at Eric, who fidgeted nervously and then said, "I gotta go make a phone call. Be right back." He took off, ignoring Wes's half-hearted protest.

So now what? Wes tried carefully examining the bread and taking as long as possible to spread on some butter and take a bite. It tasted like sawdust so he put it down on his bread plate and looked at it. Then he looked at his knife, at the tablecloth, at his wineglass. Anywhere but at the man sitting across from him, until he spoke.

"I'm sorry, Wes. I had no idea you'd be this upset."

"I'm not upset."

"The frogs' legs say otherwise. Look, I understand this is a surprise, but I thought you'd be pleased. I thought you liked Lina."

"I like her okay."

"Then what's the problem?"

"There isn't any problem. It's just that..." Wes shrugged uncertainly. "Well, it's kinda sudden, isn't it?"

"We've been dating for five years." Collins was watching him closely, face calm but his hands playing nervously with his napkin. "Your mother died over thirty years ago. I loved her, and I always will, but now I love Lina too. You can understand that, can't you?"

"Yeah, I guess," Wes muttered, torn between confusion, frustration, and guilt. "I guess it's just that..."

"What?"

"Well, that things are going to change." He looked up again. "Ever since I can remember, it's been just you and me. Now - I guess that's over."

"But it's been over for years, Wes. Ever since you and Eric got together. I know how you feel; I felt some of that myself when you told me about you two. Among other things, of course." They both smiled briefly and awkwardly at the memory of that confession and the resulting conflicts. "In fact - is that part of it? You and Eric?"

"What do you mean? What's it got to do with me and Eric?"

"The fact that Lina and I can get married, and... well, you can't."

"No, of course not. We've never even thought about getting married." But Wes frowned, surprised at himself for feeling a sharp stab of - something. Envy? Resentment? His eyes fell to his father's hands, now clasped on the table. It brought back another image, one that made him look away.

"It _does_ bother you, doesn't it?"

"No." Wes shook his head.

"Wes. Tell me."

"Well... Maybe it does, a little, but not the way you think. Not marriage, but... just little stuff, like that you and Lina can tell everyone you're dating. You can go out together, and - and act like a couple, and not worry about who's looking. Even tonight - you guys can hold hands on top of the table. Out in the open. If Eric and I want to hold hands, it has to be - under the table, where no one can see."

There was another silence for a few seconds, until Wes looked at his father and found him watching with a sympathy so deep it both surprised and touched him. Collins cleared his throat. "I'm sorry," he said. "Maybe things won't always be that way."

Wes shrugged again. "Not your fault, Dad. Nothing you can do about it."

"I suppose not." Now his father's expression was unreadable, his eyes thoughtful.

Wes put a smile on his face. He was being selfish; ruining what should be a happy occasion. It was time to stop. "Man, I shouldn't be thinking about myself at a time like this. I - I think it's great. I'm sure you'll both be very happy." He even found himself meaning it.

- - -

Just to make his white lie into the truth, Eric had checked in with the Silver Guardians' operator. Just as he had expected, there was nothing going on. Sighing, he put away his cellphone and glanced towards the restaurant, wondering if it was safe to go back inside yet - and froze momentarily as he saw a shadowy form standing just outside the front door.

"So, you had the same idea I did," Lina said.

"What's that?"

"To give Alan and Wes a few minutes alone." She shook her head. "I told him not to spring it on both of you in public like this, but he was so sure you were expecting it."

"Nope. Not expecting it." Eric looked away, hoping she'd take the hint and stop talking.

"You don't like me, do you?"

Startled, he turned his head to face her. "I don't feel one way or the other," he said after a hesitation.

"Yes, you do. You're still angry that I treated you as a suspect when Wes was kidnapped."

"You were just doing your job."

"That's right. Of all people, you should understand that. So why are you holding a grudge?"

"I'm not..." Eric frowned. Why bother denying it? What did he care if this woman knew he didn't like her, and why? "Okay, fine, if you insist. Yes, I don't like you. Not because you suspected me, but the _reason_ you suspected me."

"Because I found out about you and Wes." Head slightly tilted, she studied him for a moment. "You do realize in a case like that, a lover is the logical suspect. The one we have to check out first."

"Yeah, but you didn't have to go after me the way you did. You didn't have to push so hard," Eric muttered.

"Yes I did." Lina raised her chin slightly. "I push hard because I have to. Because finding out how a person died, and why, and who's responsible, is an important job and that's the most effective way to do it. You would have done the same thing."

"I dunno." Eric glared at her. "Would you have had that attitude if I wasn't gay? I don't think so. You didn't know anything about me, but you just assumed there was something wrong because of the one thing you did figure out."

"And look who's making assumptions now." Lina stared back, her eyes just as hard as his.

"Whatever. You don't know what's gone on in my life. I have reasons to think this way."

She stepped closer, so close he almost backed away, her face harsh and determined. "I had a sister," she said in a voice so low he could barely hear. "When she was in high school she told her best friend that she was attracted to her. The 'friend' spread it all over the school. There was a lot of ugly talk. My sister, Livia, couldn't take it. She ran away. Disappeared. A month later a cop came knocking on our door to tell us she was dead. She was only sixteen. Thirty-five years ago, and I can still see her face. So don't tell me I don't understand."

Eric was still standing with his mouth half open when she smiled, the hardness disappearing as if it had never existed. "I think they've had long enough. Shall we go back to the table?"

- - -

When Wes saw Eric and Lina returning he was able to give them a real smile, and was relieved to see Eric return it and even hold Lina's chair for her in a gesture that obviously surprised her even more that it did him and his father.

The waitress, Reena, was passing, giving him a wary glance as she went by. On impulse, Wes waved her over. "This is a celebration, isn't it?" he said to the others, and then to her, "We need a bottle of champagne."

"Um... which one would you like, sir? Please?" she asked, a little hesitantly.

Wes gestured expansively. "The best you've got."

"Ah, the 1985 Château de Prétentieux." Her smile was suddenly restored to all its dazzling glory. "A lovely choice! I'll send the wine steward right away!"

"Wes..." Collins leaned closer as she walked away. "You do realize that particular champagne costs over four hundred dollars a bottle?"

"It does?" Wes blinked and shook his head. "Well, doesn't matter. It's my first gift to the bride and groom." He grinned. "Cheers!"

- - -

TBC...


	12. House 'safety'

Wes, Eric, and all other characters from Power Rangers belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.  
Anyone you don't recognize is mine.

Rated T: language, violence, sexual content including m/m sexual relationships.

**A/N:** This is a response to the Power Rangers Slash Write 22 challenge, a slash-oriented romance theme challenge. A link to the challenge site on LiveJournal is in my profile.

**Extra A/N:** This mentions events from the previous story 'Boxed In'.

Reviews are always appreciated.

**Turns in the Road**

* * *

House (Safety)

- - -

He stood there for a minute or two before knocking, taking the time to look over the yard and the front of the house. How many times had he stood here over the years? Hundreds? A thousand? Odd that he'd never noticed the way a tree shaded the porch, or admired how the evening shadows fell across a neatly mowed and raked lawn, or wondered whether the siding needed painting. No, he'd never been thinking about the house, only about who was waiting inside.

Wes raised a hand to press the doorbell, and as on so many evenings, listened for the sound of answering footsteps. In another moment the door swung open and Eric was giving him a quick smile and moving aside to let him in. When the door clicked shut they stepped closer for a kiss in the half light coming from the living room, the moment bringing with it the echoes of a thousand other kisses given and received in this spot; some simple greeting or goodbye, some tender, some passionate.

"You're early," Eric murmured, his face still so close Wes could feel the warmth of his breath.

"Yeah... wanted to talk to you about something."

"Anything wrong?" Eric pulled back a little to look into Wes's face before continuing, "I thought something's been on your mind lately. What's up?"

"No, nothing's wrong. Come on, let's sit down."

He waited until they were seated on the old but comfortable sofa in the living room that had become as familiar as his own bedroom, each settling into his own favorite spot, the two of them turned enough to face each other. How many times had they sat here, just like this? There would be a lot more - a lot - if Eric agreed to what he was about to suggest.

"Well?" Eric said. "You wanted to talk."

How did you lead up to something like this? Especially when you were so unsure of how the other person was going to react. _Carefully, that's how._ "Yeah..." Wes started. "Well, it's getting to be only a couple more months until Dad and Lina are going to get married."

"I know. What, you still don't like the idea?"

"It's not that - I think they'll be happy and all. It's just that when they're married, Lina's going to move in."

Eric smiled a little. "From what I hear, that's the way it usually works."

"Anyway - I've been thinking for a while that I shouldn't stay there. You know, third wheel and all."

Now Eric's expression was neutral, but something had sharpened in his eyes. "It's a big house. But yeah, I can see what you mean."

"Right." Wes shrugged. "Besides, I'm in my thirties now. Time to leave the nest."

"I guess so." Eric's tone was non-committal, his face still unrevealing.

"So - so, I was thinking about moving out." Wes took a deep breath. "And - well, you have this whole house, and I spend so much time here already, I was thinking maybe I could move in here."

"You want to move in with me." Eric's voice was flat, and definitely not enthusiastic.

Despite his increasing misgivings, Wes forged ahead. "Yeah. We've been together for a long time now. We know we get along-"

"No." Eric moved back just a fraction, and crossed his arms, his face gone blank.

"No? That's all, just 'no'?"

"You know why we can't live together."

"No, I don't. Why?"

There was a flicker of impatience in Eric's expression now, along with something Wes couldn't identify. "We've talked about this before. We can't let people find out about us, and living together would be like waving a red flag, or maybe a rainbow-colored one." He shook his head. "No. Too dangerous. I thought you understood that."

Wes frowned. "You talk like we're going to get lynched or something. This is 2010, not the fifties. Even if a few people talk about us, who cares? Even if they know for sure we're gay, who cares? Dad's behind us a hundred percent, so we're sure not going to get fired or anything. And if somebody wants to beat us up in an alley - well, let them try. I think we can both defend ourselves, with or without our morphers."

Eric was still shaking his head. "You don't understand. We can't let people find out. It would ruin everything."

"It would ruin _what_ exactly, Eric? Not our jobs. Not our lives, as long as we still have each other."

"No." Eric got up and paced a few restless steps away, his back turned, tension clear in the lines of his shoulders. "This is for your sake as well as mine. You don't want people talking about you, looking at you funny, making jokes behind your back, telling you you're going to hell, thinking you're sick, or perverted, or unnatural..."

"I don't care what people like that think, and neither should you." Wes waited, but Eric said nothing, only stood there, head bowed. "Look, we've been together for more than seven years now. Seven years of - of sneaking around, pretending, of grabbing a few hours together a couple of times a week, going out together but having to act like we're just friends, and of course not too often because that would look suspicious, and - and spending the whole night together maybe two or three times a month; can't let the neighbors see me leaving in the morning too often..." He ran out of breath, slightly shaken at the depth of his own feelings of anger and frustration. "Well, I'm sick of it. I love you and I want to be with you, and I want to live with you, and if anyone doesn't like it, too bad."

Eric's voice was low and rough when he answered. He still didn't turn around. "I want a lot of things I know I can't have, not now, maybe not ever. Don't you think I _want_ you to move in here? Don't you think I want us to live together? I hate the hiding, too. I hate it when we have sex and then you have to get up and leave. But that's the way things are, and we're stuck with it."

"I think you're wrong. It doesn't have to be that way."

Those tense shoulders tightened even more. "Can't you just get an apartment? Maybe somewhere close to here. Then we could spend more time together."

"I guess I could, but that's not what I want."

"Like I just said, you can't always get what you want."

Wes tried a smile and a lighter tone. "Yeah, but there's nothing wrong with trying, is there?" When there was no answer he went on. "Why should I get an apartment and have to worry about furniture and taking care of the place and stuff, when I can just move in here?"

"Yeah, that would be convenient for you, wouldn't it? Right from Daddy taking care of you to me." When Eric swung around, Wes could see anger in his face.

"Hey, that's not-"

"You talk about wanting to be with me more, but for all this time you've stayed in your father's house! For years I've wished you would move out and get your own place, so I could spend nights there too!"

"Eric..." Wes stared, both angry and confused. "If that's how you felt, why didn't you ever say anything?"

"Why didn't _you_ think of it yourself?"

"I did!" Wes was on his feet now too, his fists clenching. "I thought about it! I didn't do it for the same reason I don't want to do it now! I-" He hesitated and then said it. "I don't want to live alone."

"_That's_ your reason? You don't want to live _alone_?" Eric shook his head with a sneer. "Jesus, Wes, sometimes things aren't exactly the way we want, and guess what? We just have to live with it. I thought you would have figured that out by now."

"Look, I don't like being alone! Maybe you think that's stupid or something-"

"Pretty much."

"Why should I have to live in a way I'll hate when I don't have to?"

"Why can't you try?"

"You don't understand!" Wes hesitated again - but he knew he had to say it as Eric's eyes turned cold. "It's not just that I don't like it... Every time I think about it - being all alone at night, no one there, shut up in a room in the dark, knowing there's no one..." Wes stopped, a shiver overtaking him. "I know it's stupid. I hate being like this, but ever since the box, the thought of living alone scares me. I only feel safe going to sleep if there's someone around."

Eric crossed the room in a couple of quick steps and faced him, raising a hand to touch his cheek. "You've felt like this all this time? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Ashamed. Didn't want you to think I'm a coward."

"The guy who took on a couple hundred cyclobots by himself, a coward? I don't think so." He leaned a little closer to kiss Wes lightly. "I'm sorry I got mad."

"It's okay." Wes kissed him back, but pulled away after a moment and waited for Eric to meet his eyes. "But I get the feeling this won't make any difference, will it? You still won't let me move in."

"If you get your own place I can come over a lot. And you could stay here more. The hell with the neighbors; they can't prove anything. We could be together most nights." Eric touched the side of Wes's face with gentle fingers. "Even if we lived together, with our schedules there'd be times you'd sleep alone, lots of them. Either way you'll have to face it - get used to it - or stay in your father's house."

"So it's still 'no'," Wes said softly, with the finality of disappointment.

"Wes..." Eric stepped back and turned away again. "I _can't_." His voice was strained - and so was his face when he turned his head. "I'm sorry. Maybe it doesn't make sense to you, but I just _can't_. Maybe I've lived like this for too long, and I can't change. I'd be - I'd be looking over my shoulder every minute, expecting something to happen. You talk about not feeling safe - well, you're not the only one. I can't live like that."

"But..." Wes stared, alarmed and torn between frustration and sympathy. "But nothing terrible's going to happen. You said I should face my fears - what about yours? Are you going to spend the rest of your life hiding?"

"I don't know. I-" Eric's shoulders slumped, his hands turning out in a gesture of helplessness. "I love you, Wes. Isn't that enough?"

Wes crossed the room to stand behind Eric and enfold him in a hesitant hug. "Yeah, of course it's enough. I don't want to do anything you don't want."

He felt strong hands fold over his and pull his arms tighter, as Eric leaned back into him. "I'm sorry," he said again.

"Nothing to be sorry about." Wes smiled as Eric turned in his embrace to hold him. When they kissed, he let it last and deepen this time.

But as he stood in a house where he was still only granted the status of a visitor, he knew that things had changed between them - nothing dramatic, not in any obvious way, nothing that would destroy their relationship. But not for the better.

- - -

TBC...


	13. Wedding Bell Blues 'family'

Wes, Eric, and all other characters from Power Rangers belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.  
Anyone you don't recognize is mine.

Rated T: language, violence, sexual content including m/m sexual relationships.

**A/N:** This is a response to the Power Rangers Slash Write 22 challenge, a slash-oriented romance theme challenge. A link to the challenge site on LiveJournal is in my profile.

Reviews are always appreciated.

**Turns in the Road**

* * *

Wedding Bell Blues

- - -

"I hate these monkey suits," Eric muttered.

"Yeah, me too. At least now I can put on a tie without strangling myself." Wes smiled at him, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

Eric smiled back. Funny, he had never before noticed those tiny lines starting to appear on Wes's face. Smile lines. Not that those first faint traces of the passing years made his partner any less attractive, it was more the opposite. Still, they meant Wes was no longer the boy Eric had had such a crush on in school, or even the young man he had fallen in love with as an adult. And that wasn't the only thing that had changed lately.

Wes raised a hand to wave. Turning, Eric saw a middle-aged couple and a younger couple with a small child waving back from the crowd of assorted Bio-Lab executives and employees, business associates, police officers, Silver Guardians, relatives, and friends gathered on the Collins mansion grounds on this fine summer day to celebrate the wedding of Alan Collins and Lina Munroe. "Cousins. I think," Wes said. "Excuse me, gotta say hello."

Eric watched him make his way across the lawn, stopping once to shake hands with a woman in a gray dress, and then greeting his relatives. Yes, Wes had changed. He would never be a hard-headed businessman and he still yawned in meetings, but he knew what was going on in the company and he knew how to charm the people he had to deal with. Whereas Eric himself lacked the charm but had the 'hard-headed' part down cold. He smiled a little. It seemed they made a good team in every way.

And yet... and yet... what about the most important side of their partnership? Something had gone off track between them. They still acted the same way. Still spent as much time together. Still treated each other the same way and made love the same way. But there was a very soft and subtle coolness there, a distance that had never existed before. Some vital spark was - not gone, but had dimmed. A few times he had caught Wes watching him with a sort of - regret - and knew the same thing was in his own eyes right now.

In the months since their discussion, Wes had never mentioned moving in again. In fact he hadn't talked about what he planned to do about living arrangements at all, and Eric had been reluctant to ask. _Afraid_ to ask was more accurate, Eric had to admit, when it would be a painful topic for both of them. Wes must feel resentful, at least a little. Eric himself felt guilty, and more than a little.

Had it been a mistake to turn Wes down out of fear that everyone would find out about them and their relationship? A part of Eric had the uneasy feeling that it had been. Another, stronger, part said no, it had been the only possible choice, and showed him its proof - the names his father had called him before he even knew what they meant, the taunting in school until he learned to hide his nature, the foster parents who gave him back to the orphanage like a defective product before he learned never to tell and never to trust, the crude jokes his Army buddies told that he learned to laugh at while boiling with anger inside. Wes had no idea; he had grown up privileged and pampered. He could say things had changed all he liked, but one thing never changed - human nature.

Eric was startled out of bitter thoughts by the realization that Wes was headed in his direction, relatives in tow. Reluctantly, he straightened up and tried to put a halfway pleasant expression on his face. Wouldn't do to scare the guests.

"Hey, Eric, want you to meet some of my family." Wes turned back to the others. "Folks, this is Eric Myers. Eric, this is my cousin Paul, his wife Sarah, their daughter Michelle, her husband Harry. And Annie, of course," he added, ruffling the little girl's hair.

They went through the usual handshakes and remarks about the ceremony, the reception, the trip here, how happy Mr. Collins looked, how radiant Lina was. Just as Eric was wondering how much longer before he could gracefully escape, he spotted two young men approaching, one of them with a noticeable resemblance to Cousin Paul and his daughter. Looked like he'd be stuck with meeting them, too.

"Wes, do you remember our son Roger?" Paul asked.

"Well, sure. But he probably won't remember me." Wes grinned at the new arrivals. "Roger? The last time I saw you, you were like ten years old."

"I've grown a little since then." Roger had the same smile as Wes, Eric noticed, and the same dark blond hair.

"Yeah. When was that, almost fifteen years ago?"

"Sounds about right." Roger turned to hold out a hand to the darker young man with him. "I'd like you to meet my partner, Kevin. Kev, this is my second or third or something cousin, Wes Collins."

"Partner, huh?" Wes asked.

"Yeah, we met in college. Been living together ever since." Both Roger and Kevin seemed to watch for a reaction. Eric took a quick glance at the parents, sister, and brother-in-law. All still smiling away.

"Well, that's great," Wes said enthusiastically. He gave Eric a slightly ironic look. "Isn't that great, Eric? Oh, I'd like you to meet Eric Myers, my - er, co-commander in the Silver Guardians."

Roger and Kevin were holding hands. In public, where everyone could see. Those Bio-Lab executives a few yards away were staring. Weren't they? Eric pulled his eyes away, forced a smile to his face, and managed to say something that must have sounded normal. When his cellphone buzzed, it was a relief to mutter, "Excuse me," and get away from them.

- - -

There was only a lingering trace of sunset staining the sky when he managed to find Wes alone again. _Not his fault,_ Eric reminded himself. Between preparing for his role as best man and helping to play host to a horde of relatives, friends, and business acquaintances, Wes hadn't had much free time for the last week. Still... couldn't he have made more of an effort?

At least things had died down now. Most of the guests had left; only a couple dozen die-hards were scattered around the gardens in small groups or gathered around Mr. Collins, talking and laughing. Lina had disappeared, probably to change out of her gown.

"Hey," Wes said as Eric joined him, sitting on a lounge chair at the side of the swimming pool. "How're you holding up?"

"Okay, I guess." Looking up, he noticed Roger and Kevin across the lawn, with Roger's family, obviously waiting their turn to say goodbye to their host. He frowned.

"I didn't do that on purpose, you know," Wes said, smiling faintly as Eric glanced at him. ''I didn't conjure up a gay cousin and his boyfriend just to... well, you know."

_To show me how it's done? To show me I'm being unreasonable?_ The words sprang to Eric's lips but he bit them back. "I didn't think you did," he said a little stiffly.

"I've been looking for an apartment," Wes said after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. One of those deals with separate entrances. Privacy."

"Good." Eric knew he should say more, after Wes had taken the first step. "Um... Want me to take a look with you or anything?"

"I think I can handle it." Wes shrugged and sighed, looking across the darkening lawn to where Lina had reappeared and joined his father. "Besides, there's no big rush. Dad and Lina will be on their honeymoon for a month. And it's not like I have to get out the minute they get back."

"Yeah, no rush."

Again they drifted into uneasy silence, until Wes asked, "So - you kind of disappeared when you got that call. Anything wrong?"

"No. Not exactly. It was Dr. Zaskin, in Newtech City."

"Yeah? I know he called Dad to apologize for not coming to the wedding. Said he couldn't get away."

"Right. Said pretty much the same thing to me. Wants us to go down there and give them a hand."

"What's the problem?"

"He didn't want to say over the phone. Just that it involves - illegal aliens."

They exchanged a significant look. "When do they want us?" Wes asked.

"As soon as possible. Tomorrow, if we can get away."

"Tomorrow?" Wes cast a glance in the direction of the remaining guests. "Oh, man. I've got to see Dad and Lina off, and I've got a couple dozen relatives from out of town expecting me to show them around..."

"No problem," Eric said. "I'll go check it out."

"Great. I can come in a few days if you need me."

"Sounds like a plan." Eric stood up. "I guess I should do some packing, in case I stay there for a while. If you don't need me here."

"No, we're fine." Wes's face was indistinct in the rippling light from the swimming pool as he looked up.

"Umm..." Eric lowered his voice. "You want to come over tonight?"

Wes glanced in the direction of his father again. "I have to stay until everyone leaves, and then make sure things get cleaned up and stuff. I'll be beat by then. Sorry."

There was a time when Wes would have said he was never too tired for a night together. Just the inevitable settling down of any long-term relationship? Or something more?

"No problem," Eric said. "Well... I guess I'll see ya."

"Yeah." Wes got up. "Eric..." He seemed to hesitate, and then stepped closer, reaching out in a gesture that would look like a handshake to any casual observer but felt much more intimate. "Good luck. And call me."

Reassured - at least for the moment - Eric smiled. "Every day," he said. "See ya in a few days."

A few days. Later he would remember that remark, and that moment, and the days and weeks that were to follow them as an ending - and a beginning.

- - -

TBC...


	14. Separations part 1 'separation'

Wes, Eric, and all other characters from Power Rangers belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.  
Anyone you don't recognize is mine.

Rated T: language, violence, sexual content including m/m sexual relationships.

**A/N:** This is a response to the Power Rangers Slash Write 22 challenge, a slash-oriented romance theme challenge. A link to the challenge site on LiveJournal is in my profile.

Reviews are always appreciated.

**Extra A/N:** The crossover between Time Force and SPD and the character of Nick Tate (no, not the Mystic Force Nick) were introduced in my previous story 'The Secret of BioSynth'.

**Turns in the Road**

* * *

Separations part 1 (separation)

- - -

Newtech City. For a moment Eric wondered who had thought up that name as he topped a rise in the highway and saw it spread out below. It didn't look all that new, or all that technical either. Just another city, not much different from Silver Hills.

He frowned, his thoughts drifting inevitably back to home and its problems even as his car headed down towards his destination. He had refused to share that home because having Wes live with him openly might destroy its safety, at least in his own mind. And yet - what did safety mean, what did home mean, if Wes wasn't a part of it? Maybe it had been a mistake to let fear keep them apart - but wouldn't it be another mistake to let the fear of losing Wes force him to agree? If Wes's resentment was pushing them apart, his own would do the job even faster.

Just a retread of the same tired circles his thoughts had been going in for weeks. Eric scowled at the city ahead. Probably just as well to give it a rest, get away for a while, to let both of them have a little time apart. Maybe when he got back, or Wes came here, they could talk about it, get it settled somehow and get rid of the thin, invisible wall growing between them.

Newtech City. Eric focused his thoughts on it as he passed the city limits and saw tall buildings in the distance. Newtech City and SPD - Bio-Lab's Special Police Division, although he knew that the real meaning was Space Patrol Delta, and that this organization was the Earth outpost of a much larger agency, a secret that would be revealed publicly when the public was ready for it.

But the thought of SPD led to the thought of Nick Tate. Nick, his... his... Eric smiled ruefully. 'Lover' implied an emotion he hadn't felt. 'Guy I used to have sex with' sounded too cold. 'Boyfriend' sounded stupid, but it was a little better than 'significant other'. Okay. Nick, his former boyfriend in the Army who had turned up in Silver Hills - how long ago now? Must be about five years. Turned up working for Bio-Lab, and with a wife and child. Well, Nick had always said he was bisexual, and apparently he hadn't been kidding.

Were they happy, Nick and his wife Lyn and baby Sky? At least they could live together out in the open... Damn, why did everything seem to lead back to Wes? Focus.

While Nick was almost certainly involved, it was Michael Zaskin who had called and asked for help. What kind of help? They had their own Ranger; Nick was using the first suit they had built using data from tests on Wes's morpher (and there he was again) and had already started to make a name for himself. Did they need another Ranger to back him up for some reason? Someone they could trust to be discreet, who already knew what their top scientist looked like without the hologrammatic disguise that made her look human?

With a mental shrug Eric decided there was no point in wondering. He'd find out soon enough.

- - -

"Just be back soon. Our flight's boarding in..." Collins checked his watch.

"In an hour, if it's not delayed." Lina leaned in her seat to kiss him, and then got up. "I won't be long. Just want to stretch my legs and check out a few of the shops."

"Don't spend too much," Collins said with a smile.

"What else is a rich husband for?" She grinned back and gave Wes a wink.

"Feels strange, waiting for a plane and not going over papers or planning financial strategy," Collins said, his eyes following Lina as she walked away. "My first real vacation in... I don't remember how long. And it's a honeymoon. At my age."

"You'll have a great time," Wes said.

"Don't forget that meeting with Wilson Pharmaceutical."

"I won't, Dad."

"And call if anything unusual comes up."

"I will, Dad."

"And make sure I get a summary-"

"Dad..." Wes grinned and shook his head. "Honeymoon, remember? The only company you should be worrying about is Lina's."

"You're right, of course." Collins gave him a smile. "You know, after we get back, you and Eric should do this. Take some time off and go somewhere. Give you a chance to spend some real time together, especially since you decided not to move into his house."

"Yeah," Wes said, unable to keep his voice from showing how he felt. "Maybe someday."

His father turned to look at him more closely. "Something wrong, son?" he asked after a moment.

Wes shrugged. "Nothing you should worry about." He gave a hollow laugh. "Especially not now."

"Wes. Tell me." He waited, staring with that steady, penetrating _look_ that had always intimidated Wes as a child - and still did, a little.

"Okay already, Dad." Both amused and slightly annoyed, Wes leaned forward and stared into his hands, clasped between his knees. "To tell you the truth, I didn't decide not to move into Eric's house. I asked him if I could move in, and he said no."

"He turned you down?" Collins' voice was neutral.

"Yeah. It's not his fault, Dad, so don't blame him or anything. He's just - worried - that people will find out about us. That's why."

"I see."

"I don't know... I said nothing terrible's going to happen if people find out. We won't lose our jobs or anything. But maybe he's right. Maybe I'm being naïve or unrealistic or whatever."

"He's got a point, and I can understand how he feels, especially considering his background. But - no, you're not being naïve. Things have changed tremendously since when I was a kid, or even when I was your age, and they're going to keep on changing. That said, there will always be people who will give you a bad time because of who you are. Sometimes they can change, too - just look at me. Sometimes not." He sighed. "Yes, Eric's got a point. But you've got a point too."

"Well... I guess. But - it's not even so much who's right and who's wrong; it's that he wouldn't even consider it. It's like what I want doesn't matter to him. I try to understand why, but - I dunno, things just aren't the same between us." Wes realized some considerable part of his unhappiness of the last months had crept into his voice as it trembled slightly. He tried to laugh. "I guess I'll get over it. _We'll_ get over it. No big deal."

Collins' voice was very soft. "But it could be a big deal. I've seen marriages break up for less."

"Yeah, well, we're certainly not married."

"I know." Something in his father's tone made Wes look up, but the older man only smiled and rested a hand on his knee. "Son, I'm going to tell you the two things I've learned about love in my lifetime. One: the real thing can be very hard to find. Two: when you find it, it's worth hanging on to. Relationships take work, and patience, and compromise. It's not always happiness and romance - sometimes it'll make you miserable, sometimes you'll want to just give up. But - if it's real - the rewards are well worth the struggle." He leaned to look directly into Wes's face. "I think it's the real thing with you and Eric. Don't let it go without a fight."

A fight. Wes felt his mouth curve into an almost unwilling smile. "You'd think that's one thing Eric and I know how to do. Fight for what we want."

"Don't you?"

"I hope so, Dad. I hope so."

- - -

SPD, that's what the sign over the door said in big letters. Eric stopped and looked it over long enough to compare it to the tall, windowed walls of Bio-Lab, and found it similar, on a smaller scale. An office building like so many others - except for the secrets it held.

But right now the only secrets he was interested in were why Zaskin had asked for help and how long he was going to have to stay. In search of answers, Eric pushed through the glass entrance doors, spotted a receptionist, and in a few minutes was being greeted by Dr. Michael Zaskin himself.

"Eric! It's nice to see a face from Bio-Lab," the tall scientist said as they shook hands. "How was the drive down here?"

"Not bad. Made it in a couple of hours."

"Good; that's good." Zaskin sounded slightly distracted, and Eric noticed circles of fatigue under his eyes. "Thanks for coming on such short notice."

"No problem."

"Come on, I'll show you around. Then I want to introduce you to someone."

Zaskin led him towards the back of the building, pausing as they came to a model of a building on display in a glass case at the back of the lobby. "Our future headquarters," he said. "Still in the design stages, but we're planning to move into it in about ten years."

"That's a long time to construct a building, isn't it?" Eric eyed the model dubiously. It was a tall, blocky, and very odd-looking structure.

"It's going to be more than just a building." he smiled at Eric's puzzled look. "No time to go into details. Come on."

Next, they passed a set of laboratories complete with groups of people in white lab coats. "This is where I do most of my work," Zaskin said. "As you know, we built our first working morpher thanks to the data we got from testing Wes's morpher and some help from the Lightspeed scientists. Now we're working on improving the design."

"I know," Eric said. "Been curious to see how that first one turned out."

"Then follow me."

A minute or two later they were outside, and Eric found himself looking at what was obviously a training area equipped with a track, an obstacle course - and, around a corner, a firing range. Standing with his back to them, taking aim with a familiar blaster at one of the targets set up beyond him, was--

"Wes?" Eric muttered in surprise at the sight of the Time Force Red Ranger suit. But no... the stance, the movements, the lines of the body in that suit were not Wes's. He had expected this, and yet the sight was still startling even after the man turned around to reveal the silver SPD badge on his chest.

"Eric!" the Ranger exclaimed, and raised his arm to tap the morpher on his wrist. "Power down!"

"Hello, Nick." Eric tried not to seem like he was staring, trying to see if and how his former boyfriend had changed in the years since they had last seen each other. If there was a difference, it was a good one - Nick had an air of quiet confidence that Eric didn't remember from before. "Nice suit."

"Yeah, it's a little weird the way it looks just like Wes's, isn't it? This is basically just a copy; later we'll improve them and make them look different." Nick lowered his arm and stepped closer. "I'm glad you could come. Nice to see you again."

"Yeah, me too. Glad, I mean." Feeling just a little self-conscious, Eric put out his hand. "How have you been doing? You look good." For a moment he wondered if the compliment would sound out of place.

"Great. I'm doing great. You look good, too."

Having established that they both were doing well and looking good, they both turned to Dr. Zaskin. "So - not that I'm not enjoying the reunion - but are you going to tell me what I'm doing here?" Eric asked.

"Yes. Well, not me." Zaskin looked slightly nervous. "That person I'd like you to meet - he'll explain it."

"Yes, you're in for a treat," Nick told him, voice lowered, as the three of them headed back into the building. "Meeting Doggie Cruger is a real experience."

- - -

Wes stayed in the airport to watch the plane carrying his father and Lina take off. Standing at one of the floor-to-ceiling windows, he stared out, following it with his eyes as it glinted silver in the bright sun on its way up and into the freedom of flight. Nice that Dad was getting away for a while. Nice...

And yet, Wes couldn't deny the hollow feeling of emptiness inside him as he turned away and reluctantly headed for the exit, the parking lot, the highway, back to Silver Hills and the relatives waiting for him to show them a good time. Great people, he reminded himself, but none of them was who he wanted to be with right now. Dad, gone... and Eric. Gone. They would both be back soon, true, but now that Dad was married things would never be the same; he would always have other commitments now. Eric... what if that would never be the same either?

- - -

"You remember Kat Manx," Nick murmured as they entered what seemed to be a command center in the heart of the SPD building, after passing through three different checkpoints and sets of armed guards.

Still wondering what could possibly need this much security, Eric nodded as a young woman bent over a panel covered with electronic controls looked up at them, the brilliance of her green eyes visible even at that distance. "How could I forget?" he said as she got up and approached them. "Hello, Dr. Manx."

"So formal. Hello, Commander Myers," she replied, raising an eyebrow. Kat was no longer wearing the holographic disguise that made her look like a human woman, and although he already knew what she really looked like he couldn't help being startled by the sight of her fangs as she smiled.

But that was nothing compared to what he felt when his eyes moved beyond her and deeper into the room. There was a person standing at a bank of monitors and displays covering the far wall, facing away from them, a person dressed in what looked like a long uniform coat, male if the height and broad shoulders were any indication. Which they might not be, since the back of his massive head appeared to be covered with strange, ropy hair, and two large, blue, almost bat-like ears rose above it.

And Zaskin was leading the way towards him. "Commander Cruger?" he said. "Commander Myers is here. Eric, this is Commander Anubis Cruger."

Eric hardly heard him. The man - or whatever he was - turned around and looked down at him from the face of a huge, blue, scaly-skinned dog. Eric took a step back, staring in shock.

"Commander Myers. I've heard a great deal about you. Very nice to meet you at last," the blue dog was saying in a deep, strong voice. He moved forward and held out an equally huge blue hand.

"I - er - I-" Firmly, Eric tried to get a grip on himself. He knew Kat was an alien, it wasn't like this should be a complete surprise. With a distrustful look at that very strong-looking paw - no, _hand_ - he put out his own and blurted the first thing that popped into his head. "Uh, I see why they call you Doggie."

"Ah." Cruger's face didn't show expression well, but his voice was acidly ironic. "Do they? How amusing."

"Um, yes." Zaskin seemed embarrassed. Nick was trying unsuccessfully to hide a smile, and while Kat's face was blank, her eyes twinkled. "Well, Eric needs an explanation of what's been going on, and why we asked him here."

"Very well." All business now, Cruger turned to the wall again and indicated a large monitor. He touched a control and then pointed at the screen as the picture of a decidedly non-human creature with horns, a skull-like face, and red glowing eyes was displayed. "This - is Emperor Gruumm."

"Gruumm. I've heard that name before," Eric said.

"I told you a little about him back in Silver Hills," Kat said.

"And now it's time for you to know as much as we do," Cruger continued. "Kat probably told you the basics: he's a warlord bent on conquest, and he's headed for Earth."

"And she said he'd get here in another fifteen or twenty years. That's why Bio-Lab set you up here, so we can be ready if he attacks."

"Not if. When. We know his plans include Earth. That's one of the reasons I'm here. And that's the reason we've started to bring in more non-Earthers. Aliens, to you. Some want to fight Gruumm. Some are refugees. Many are both."

"You're bringing aliens to Earth? Already?"

"Yes." Cruger turned to face him. "Kat was the first, then me. In the last months there have been more. We've hidden some, helped others disguise themselves, helped them start to make a life here, put them to work on the Ranger project and other weapons development."

"You mean you're just letting them loose? How do we know we can trust them?"

"Much as I'd like to say you're being narrow-minded and suspicious..." Cruger sighed. "I can't, because your suspicions are justified. This is why we need your help."

"Explain," Eric said, eyes narrowing.

"We have been cautious. However, there has been an - unfortunate incident. A small group of known criminals has managed to land on Earth, and we have been unable so far to capture them."

"I see." Eric felt a distinct sinking in the pit of his stomach. "How small a group?"

"Five. Four of them are nothing, only followers. But their leader - their leader is a very dangerous person, with abilities that make him a match even for a Power Ranger." Cruger held his gaze steadily. "His name is Mirloc."

- - -

"_Nick is a Ranger now, but he's only one guy. So they want me to stick around while they try to locate this Mirloc, since he's supposed to be so tough. They briefed me on him; he's also got some kind of ability to transport himself through any reflective surface."_

"Yeah? Weird." Wes smiled a little, even though Eric couldn't see him. He leaned back against the headboard of his bed and rested his morpher arm on his knee. Eric had called him on the morpher, saying it was more secure than a telephone, and considering what he had to say Wes couldn't blame him. "First mutants, and now aliens," he went on after a moment.

"_Yeah. Why can't we just have ordinary master criminals and evil geniuses?" _

Wes laughed. Eric didn't make jokes often, and this one was a nice surprise. "We've had a few of those too."

"_I guess."_

Wes sobered and brought the morpher closer to his face. "Sounds like I should get down there. My relatives are only here for another couple of days; they can take care of themselves for that long. I'll tell them I have to leave, and be there tomorrow around-"

"_I've got it covered, Wes. Nick and I should be able to handle anything that comes up."_

"Yeah, but-"

"_Look, you can get here in an hour in a company helicopter if you need to, right?"_

"Well, yeah, I guess."

"_So hang out. No telling how long this is going to take, and with your father gone you need to be there to take care of Bio-Lab and the Guardians. I'll call if we need you."_

Wes frowned. It sounded reasonable, but - why did Eric not want him there? Did he think he was being considerate? Was it the same pride that always made him deny he needed help? Or - did it have something to do with Nick? Being around a former lover, when things weren't going so well with his current lover... No, Eric wasn't like that, and Nick's wife was right there... but still...

"I guess. Okay. For now anyway," he agreed reluctantly. "Just make sure you call if anything happens."

"_I will. I better go. Gotta get some sleep."_

"Yeah, right." A whole conversation, and they hadn't said anything more personal than 'hello'. "Well... Take care of yourself."

"_I always do."_ There was a hesitation. "_I, uhh, miss you."_

"I miss you too." Wes hesitated himself. "Listen, Dad said maybe after he gets back we should take some time off and go somewhere."

"_Where?"_

"I don't know. Anywhere you like. What do you think?"

"_Sure, I guess. Someday."_ There was little enthusiasm in Eric's voice, but it was softer and warmer when he went on. "_See ya, Wes."_

"See ya, Eric."

Wes sighed, still staring at the morpher after the connection was broken. This distance, this discomfort with each other - at first he would have said it was his own fault, his resentment of Eric's stubbornness, but there was more to it than that. No, it was both of them, or perhaps now mostly Eric. The question was, could either of them stop it?

_Don't let it go without a fight._ "I'm trying, Dad, I'm trying," he whispered.

- - -

TBC...


	15. Separations part 2 'the closet'

Wes, Eric, and all other characters from Power Rangers belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.  
Anyone you don't recognize is mine.

Rated T: language, violence, sexual content including m/m sexual relationships.

**A/N:** This is a response to the Power Rangers Slash Write 22 challenge, a slash-oriented romance theme challenge. A link to the challenge site on LiveJournal is in my profile.

Reviews are always appreciated.

**Turns in the Road**

* * *

Separations part 2

- - -

Nick caught Eric's eye and shook his head slightly. Eric sighed. "Thank you, ma'am," he said, nodding to the woman they had just wasted the last twenty minutes on interviewing. "I think we have all the information we need."

"What are you going to do about the aliens?" she demanded in a sharp voice.

"We'll take care of them, don't worry," Nick said soothingly.

"Just keep wearing that aluminum hat," Eric said. "I'm sure it'll keep them from controlling your mind with radar."

"Don't underestimate the power of aluminum, young man!"

Eric waited only long enough for them to get out of earshot before muttering, "Damn nutcase."

"It's not her fault," Nick said.

"I know, I know. But we've spent the last two days checking out every crank call and crazy rumor in town, and we keep ending up with-" he gestured disgustedly at the house they had just left- "aluminum hats."

"Gotta be done. Mirloc has disappeared; we've got no real leads to follow. Right now the crazy reports of aliens I've been able to get from the local police is about all we've got to go on." Nick paused at the door of the SPD company car they were sharing for the day. "Looks like that's it for now, and it's almost lunchtime. How about we go by my house and grab something to eat?"

Eric stopped with a hand on the open door. "I dunno. Why don't you just drop me off at SPD? I can get something there."

"But that's halfway across town. My place is a lot closer."

"Well, then I can drop _you_ off. Pick you up later."

"Eric..." Nick shook his head. "This is the third time I've invited you over in the last two days. What's the problem?"

"Jesus..." Eric slid into the car seat and shut the door before answering after Nick did the same. "Isn't it obvious? Your wife... me... It would be weird."

"But she wants you to come. You're my old Army buddy, as far as she knows, and she'd like to meet you."

"I don't like it. You sure she doesn't know about us?"

Nick shook his head. "I told her I'm bi and I've been with men, including one in the Army, but I didn't name any names. I don't like hiding things from her, but - I figure it's not my secret to tell."

"Good. At least I won't have to worry she's going to slip something into my lunch."

This time Nick laughed. "You're still a suspicious bastard. Does that mean you'll come?"

"I can see I have no choice," Eric grumbled as Nick, still smiling, put the car in gear.

- - -

"Would you like anything else?"

Eric glanced over the table in the Tates' comfortable dining room, laden with fresh bread, cold cuts, cheese, and a bowl of fruit, and at the remains of his own sandwich. "No, this was great, Mrs. Tate. Thanks."

"Now, didn't I tell you to call me Lyn?"

"Eric likes to be formal, honey. Be grateful he doesn't call you 'ma'am'," Nick said, and added to Eric, "Better do what she wants. Lyn's almost as stubborn as you."

"Gee, thanks, sweetheart," Lyn said.

"Hey, I meant it as a compliment." Nick chuckled at her as she playfully swatted his shoulder.

Lyn stood up. "Okay then, if you two can survive without me, I'd better take off. I want to talk to Sky's teacher before I bring him home."

"Anything wrong?" Nick asked.

"Just the normal stuff. He doesn't pay attention in class. Doesn't take his studies seriously."

"Oh, okay."

Lyn leaned over him for a quick kiss. Then with another smile, a swing of blonde hair, and the click of the front door closing behind her, she was gone.

"You remember Sky's special talent," Nick said after a moment. "We've done our best to train him not to use it in front of other people, but he's only a kid. We worry."

"I remember. But you and Lyn seem to have things under control."

"I hope so." Nick turned his attention back to the remains of his lunch. "Lyn likes you. I can tell."

"Yeah?" Eric half-smiled. "She's okay. I think you lucked out there."

"I think so too. She even understands my... varied tastes."

"Any problems because of that?"

"After she got over the first shock, and yelled at me for not telling her before we got married, no. She said as long as I'm not cheating on her it doesn't matter. She tends to be very practical." Nick leaned back in his chair. "So. What about you? How are you and Wes doing?"

"Okay, I guess." Eric was unable to keep his face from tightening.

"You guess? What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Yeah, that's convincing." Nick leaned closer. "Eric, this is me. I know when you've got a problem. If you want to talk about it, I'm a great listener."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Okay, I understand." With a shrug, Nick picked up an orange and began to peel it.

"It's just - Wes got this idea he wants to move in with me."

"And? What happened?"

"What do you think happened? I can't let him do it. Can't believe he even suggested it. I mean, it's just stupid."

"Yup. Pretty stupid to want to live with the person you love." Eric looked up, but Nick was still working on the orange, his expression innocent.

"Well, it is. Even if he doesn't care if half the world finds out about us, I do."

"How'd he take it?"

"I dunno." Eric hunched his shoulders, looking away. "Ever since then... things just aren't the same. I guess he can't handle not getting what he wants. At this rate..."

"What are you doing about it?"

"What _can_ I do?" Eric barely heard the frustration and pain in his voice, but he saw Nick's eyes focus on him, brows creasing a little. "I know Wes. He wants - he wants us to come out in the open, let everyone know about us. He's tired of hiding. Well, I'm tired of it too! I want all the same things, but I know I can't have them. That's the problem; he wants things he's never going to have with me."

"Why not?" Nick was still watching him narrowly. "What's wrong with letting people find out? Your boss already knows, and he supports you, right? So what would happen?"

"What would _happen_?" Eric scowled. "We have to work with the Silver Guardians. I can just imagine how some of those guys would react."

"How?"

"Funny looks. Jokes. Smart remarks. Some of them might refuse to obey orders, or even quit."

Nick shrugged lightly. "If some quit, hire more. Fire the ones who refuse orders, and the Guardians will be better off without them. I doubt there would be a lot of funny looks, jokes, and smart remarks after that, and if there are - ignore them."

"Wes and I would have a swarm of reporters following us around, asking questions that are none of their business and getting in the way."

"If you could handle the reporters when they found out you're the Quantum Ranger, I think you can handle this. And as soon as the next big scandal breaks, they'd forget all about you and Wes. What else?"

There were a million more reasons why they needed to keep their secret - but at the moment Eric couldn't think of any. "You don't understand," he growled.

"I don't understand? I spent a year in the Army sneaking around to meet you in bars and hotel rooms, hoping no one found out about us. But we had a reason back then. It's 2010, Eric. Even the military has changed its attitude. Soldiers aren't kicked out anymore just for being gay."

"In practice, maybe, but the rules-"

"Are in the process of changing. Along with a lot of other rules. Partly because more and more gays are coming out in the open." Nick paused, and when Eric looked up he leaned forward again. "If Wes has the courage to do this, why don't you?"

The implied accusation of cowardice stung. "Because I'm not stupid!" Eric ground out, glaring. "Because I had to fight for everything I have, and I'm not going to lose it! Not for Wes, and not for anyone!"

Nick didn't blink. "And what about Wes?" he asked. "What if you lose him instead?"

"I..." Eric looked away again. "If that's his choice, there's nothing I can do."

"It's your choice too." Again, Nick went on after a pause. "A relationship is a two-way street, or that's what it's supposed to be. A partnership. Sounds to me like you're making the decisions all on your own, and maybe that's the real problem."

"Yeah, you know all about it, don't you?"

Nick had sat back again, and was examining Eric with an infuriating smirk. "As a matter of fact, having been in a similar situation with you, I sympathize with Wes."

"I bet you do."

"Is it just that you don't _want_ to live with him, and all this stuff about people finding out is just an excuse?"

"No!" Eric hadn't even realized how true it was until he said it. "Of course I want to live with him! I would love to live with him. But not if it means having people find out about me - I mean us."

"Maybe you were right the first time." Nick still looked relaxed, but his eyes were sharp. "You know what I think? You're ashamed of being gay."

"I'm - _what_?" It was so ridiculous Eric didn't know whether to laugh or hit him.

"You're ashamed. That's why you're so determined not to let anyone find out."

"You're crazy."

"It's kind of funny. All those years you waited for Wes to come out of the closet, and now - he's ready for that last step into the open, while you've still got one foot firmly stuck inside."

"Bullshit!" Eric found himself on his feet, leaning over the table to glare down at Nick. "How the hell do you have any right to say anything? You're living the straight life, with a wife and a kid. Maybe all your crap about being bi is just an excuse and you're the one who's too scared to face up to being gay!"

"I married Lyn because I love her. It has nothing to do with straight or gay," Nick said very quietly. "Look, I grew up in the same society you did, the one that tells you every day from the moment you're born that it's normal to be straight, that you're expected to be straight. Yes, I ended up with a woman - but that doesn't mean I didn't have my own struggle with what I felt. And as hard as it is for you to imagine, I may have had it worse than you since I'm neither straight nor gay, and sometimes I felt like neither side liked me very much."

Nick paused as they stared at each other, and then went on. "Maybe you're right, and I'm in no position to tell you anything. But - if you hadn't walked out on me all those years ago maybe we'd still be together, and if we were I'd be happy to live with you. I loved you then and I still care about you, and believe it or not I want you to be happy."

"Damn," Eric muttered, straightening and stepping back. "Look... Maybe you're just trying to help. Maybe you're even right; I don't know. But - maybe I'm the one who knows what'll make me happy. If I don't - maybe I just have to make my own mistakes."

"I guess we all have to. The trick is to learn from them before it's too late." After a moment Nick looked up and smiled again, before he got to his feet. "Well, lunchtime's over and then some. We need to get back to work. Ready to track down more flying saucers and little green men?"

Eric groaned.

He managed not to think about it as he and Nick interviewed various people who had reported everything from ET in a restaurant bathroom to Elvis on a rooftop to Bigfoot at a backyard barbeque. But the thought refused to go away for good. Ashamed. Of course it wasn't true. Along with everything else Nick had said. And yet it made him wonder - was it only Wes who was responsible for the coldness that had come into their relationship? Or was it him, instinctively pulling away when Wes asked for something he wasn't willing to give?

A two-way street. Nick had been right about that part, at least. Maybe it was time to start meeting Wes halfway.

- - -

"An aluminum hat to keep aliens from controlling her mind? Really?"

"_Honest. Looked kind of like our berets, except - you know - metal. Wish you'd been there to see it."_

Wes chuckled, partly because he was amused, and partly because Eric seemed so much less distant tonight than he had since - well, for weeks, maybe months.

"_Anyway, we did get one real lead this afternoon - three kids said they saw five people in Halloween costumes breaking into a jewelry store last night. The descriptions matched. Could be we're getting close." _

That news, plus Eric's improved attitude, made Wes take a chance on asking... "So - sounds like maybe you and Nick could use a hand. Be no problem for me to get away for a few days and come down there."

There was a tiny hesitation, but Eric's tone was encouraging when he answered, "_Why not? You can check out SPD, and say hello to Dr. Zaskin, and - we can spend some time together. And if we can take Mirloc out while you're here, I can go back with you."_

"That would be great! Uh... How about tomorrow?"

"_Sounds good to me."_

"I'll drive down in the morning."

"_Okay. Call when you get into town, and we'll meet up."_

Wes smiled and tried to think of something else to say, reluctant to see the conversation end. But there really was nothing more, except the one thing that hadn't been said between them for much too long. "I love you."

"_Love you too,"_ came back, without any hesitation this time.

A moment later Wes lay back on his bed and grinned at the ceiling. Tomorrow suddenly seemed a whole lot brighter.

- - -

TBC...


	16. Separations part 3 'loss'

Wes, Eric, and all other characters from Power Rangers belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.  
Anyone you don't recognize is mine.

Rated T: language, violence, sexual content including m/m sexual relationships.

**A/N:** This is a response to the Power Rangers Slash Write 22 challenge, a slash-oriented romance theme challenge. A link to the challenge site on LiveJournal is in my profile.

Reviews are always appreciated.

**Turns in the Road**

* * *

Separations part 3

- - -

The day had dawned bright and clear, with a fresh breeze that kept the summer heat at bay. Eric turned his face up to the sky and squinted at the brightness before he walked into SPD headquarters.

Wes should be having a nice drive. Assuming he had gotten out early, he should be getting close now. Soon he'd call, and they could meet here for lunch, and then, if Nick and Cruger still didn't have anything for them to do, they could go to the hotel and spend some time alone. And all would be right with the world, at least for a few hours.

He was tempted to think Nick had arranged this time off with exactly that in mind, since SPD seemed to have run out of leads for them to check out as soon as Eric had told him Wes was on his way. Of course, Nick could use a break too; he had sounded happy when he said he was taking Lyn and Sky to the park this morning.

Meanwhile, Eric had figured there was no point in wasting time waiting, so he had come here. A quick workout - and hopefully another, more interesting workout later, with Wes. He smiled at the thought.

- - -

Wes smiled as he saw the sign: 'Newtech City Limits.' Almost there; he could see the buildings spread out in the distance. Maybe half an hour to get into town, a little longer to get to wherever Eric was. They could be meeting up in less than an hour. Maybe catch some lunch. It would be nice to pry him away from Nick for a little while too; just as well to be here and keep the two of them from getting too friendly.

And then? A job to do, a criminal to catch, Ranger style. Like old times, almost. He grinned this time, at the thrill of remembered excitement. A good fight at each other's side, a couple of nights away from home, in a hotel, doing some sneaking into each other's beds... Maybe this was what they needed to get back on track. He let the speedometer nudge higher.

- - -

Eric examined the weapon in the sunlight behind the SPD building, on the same firing range where he had first seen Nick several days ago. It was very similar to the blasters the Silver Guardians used, but looked like there had been some enhancements added. After a quick, light workout he had found himself with time on his hands, and had decided on some target practice with a borrowed blaster. It was a good opportunity to see whether SPD's weapons research was paying off. And it was. This blaster was more powerful than the Guardians', and seemed a little more accurate, too. Impressed, Eric paused, still looking at the target. He'd have to get Zaskin to send the designs to the Bio-Lab weapons engineers.

"Do you approve?" came a voice from behind him.

Surprised, Eric looked behind him to see Kat Manx watching, hands in the pockets of her lab coat and a faint smile on her face. She was wearing her human disguise. He hadn't heard her approach - but maybe along with her other cat-like qualities, she could move as quietly as one, too.

"Yeah, they're not bad," he said, holding up the blaster. "An improvement on ours."

"Yes." She came up to him and took the weapon. "That's something we've gotten very good at, building better ways to destroy each other." With a quick motion she fired at the target, not seeming to take the time to aim. The shot hit dead center. "It's necessary. But I wish it wasn't."

"From what you've told us, it's Gruumm who's bringing the fight."

"That's why I'm here," she said quietly. "To make sure we win that fight by reinforcing Earth with our technology. And that's why we need to find Mirloc. If humans learn to distrust all aliens because of a few criminals like him, it could sabotage everything Commander Cruger and I are trying to do." Again she raised an arm to fire and again hit the center.

Eric watched her for a few seconds before asking, "You told us Gruumm attacked your planet. I know why _you're_ doing this. But what's Cruger's story?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean... Every time I've been here, he's on duty. The guy seems to work twenty-four hours a day. Why does beating Gruumm mean so much to him?"

Kat's eyes stayed on the target, but a faint line appeared between her brows. "Kruger's home world, Sirius, was the base of the first SPD. Trying to destroy the only force that could stand against him, Gruumm invaded them about a year ago. Invaded, and destroyed. Every man, woman and child. Cruger survived somehow, only to awaken on a dead planet. Everyone he knew, his friends, family, wife... gone." She paused for a moment and then added softly, "As far as he knows, he's the last of his kind. I wonder sometimes what that feels like."

Eric thought about it as she looked away from him, shoulders lifting and sinking in a sigh. In the routine of the last several days, with the distractions of his personal problems and working with Nick, he had almost forgotten what this was all about. A war. People dying, the survival of whole civilizations, including Earth's. It was a sobering thought.

"Let's make sure we don't find out," he said. Taking the blaster from Kat's hand he fired another shot, hitting the center in the same spot she had.

There was someone approaching when he turned back - an SPD officer, in the uniform that was so similar to the Silver Guardians', coming towards them at a fast trot. The young man stopped in front of them, sketching a quick salute. "Commander Myers, Dr. Manx, sir, ma'am - Commander Cruger sent me to tell you there's an incident in midtown, Central Avenue. Could be Mirloc, he said. Officer Tate is already on his way, and the Commander asked if you can-"

"Tell him I'm on it," Eric said, tossing the blaster to Kat and already starting for his car.

Now that the time had come, he could feel the old mixture of excitement and uneasiness that had overtaken him before the bigger battles in Silver Hills, back when the mutants were there. Especially the battles that had been the toughest... suddenly he regretted the absence of the others. Jen, Lucas, Katie, and Trip... good fighters, all of them. Now it was aliens instead of mutants, and two Rangers - three, if Wes could make it in time - to fight them instead of six. With a shrug, he threw off the sensation of foreboding. They were Rangers; of course they'd win. They always did.

- - -

Wes was waiting impatiently at a traffic light, wondering if it was too soon to call, when his cellphone beat him to it by ringing. He got it out of his pocket, flipped it open, and was smiling as Eric's voice spoke into his ear.

"_Wes! Where are you?"_

Something was wrong; his smile vanished as he heard the tone of urgency. "Just got here," he said. "Should be downtown in a few minutes. What's going on?"

"_Trouble. Could be Mirloc. Central Avenue, midtown. Think you can find it?"_

"Yeah, I think so," Wes said, his eyes lifting into the sky where tendrils of dark smoke were reaching up from the city.

- - -

Eric fought off a sense of déjà vu as he saw people fleeing in his direction, the bright burst of a powerful energy discharge lighting the walls of the buildings behind them like lightning. He could see a billow of smoke and dust a moment later, and heard the crash of something falling.

There was no way to keep driving through the increasing crowd of panicking civilians, not if he didn't want to hit someone. Eric pulled over, turned off the engine, and got out. It wasn't going to be easy getting through all these people, all going the opposite way - so why try? With a quick leap he jumped onto the hood of his car, wincing as his shoes scraped on the finish, and then stepped to the roof. It was like standing on an island in a river of people, as he raised his morpher to his face and called, "Quantum Power!"

It had been a long time, but the remembered rush of power into his body as the suit formed around him was the same. As soon as the transformation was complete, Eric called out again, "TF Eagle!" and saw his small aircraft appear above his head, swooping down to where he could leap aboard. Leaving the car behind, he flew towards the center of the action.

- - -

Wes swore as he swerved into what he hoped would be an emptier street, circling around the source of the smoke into an area that seemed to be mostly warehouses and much less populated. It let him get closer, until suddenly he was driving through rubble, broken glass, more smoke, looking for whoever or whatever was causing this. Another explosion, very close this time, told him he was headed in the right direction.

Then he slammed on the brakes and jolted to a stop. Visible ahead of him were five people - at first he thought they were the same kind of mutants he had fought so often in 2001 - but these seemed different somehow. Two of them looked like lizards, scaly and green, with tails but walking upright like humans and wearing identical gray-green jumpsuits. One was impossible to get a good look at under the loose dark-blue outfit that covered him completely and the round helmet hiding his head. Another was tall and thin, with pebbly white skin and a ponytail of blue hair.

But it was the last one who got more than a quick glance from Wes. Tall, dressed in a long black leather coat, strange ears like bony fans, a mask-like face and eyes whose bright glow he could see even from that distance. Mirloc. It had to be. Wes climbed out of the car and raised his morpher.

- - -

Eric spotted him from the air: a red-suited figure helping an elderly couple over a pile of rubble and then pointing them in the direction of safely. He directed the Eagle down as the Red Ranger started to run deeper into the destruction, and leaped down.

"Wes!" he shouted, and saw the man stop and turn.

"No, it's Nick. Glad you're here. Come on, we've gotta stop this before more people get hurt."

Eric nodded, and followed Nick as they moved on through a landscape that again reminded him powerfully of Silver Hills in its darkest hour. The same scattered chunks of concrete and plaster, the same small fires, the same haze of dust and smoke. The same people, some hurt, some hysterical, all running for their lives. He and Nick stopped several times to do what they could to help.

They had just finished freeing a family from the wreckage of their car and watched them head off, the father limping heavily, when both of them ducked as an explosion roared, the sound deafening. A hot breeze blew over them, along with a fresh billow of smoke. "That was close!" Nick exclaimed.

"Yeah. Come on."

Minutes later Eric knew they had found what they were looking for as they turned a corner onto an even more heavily damaged street - and saw another Ranger in red facing five very strange-looking figures.

"Wes," he muttered.

"And Mirloc," Nick added grimly.

- - -

Wes moved out into the open and walked forward to where they could see him, wondering whether they would run at the sight of a Ranger or want to fight. "Mirloc!" he shouted. "Just hold it right there and don't move!"

Five alien heads turned to see him, and four of the aliens stepped into line behind their leader. "Ah, I was wondering when SPD's own Ranger would show up to stop us," Mirloc said in a deeply confident voice. "Or rather, to try to stop us."

_Yeah, they want to fight. Don't they always?_ Wes took another step forward. "Sorry, but you've got the wrong Red Ranger," he said. "I'm Time Force."

"Are you? Well, I suppose the other one won't be far away, and you'll do in the meantime."

"Do for what?" Wes asked. "Why are you here? Why are you doing this?"

Mirloc moved slightly, bringing out a large rifle-like weapon which had been half-hidden by his coat. "There are certain parties who don't want SPD to succeed in their plans, and who are willing to pay. And I'm always agreeable to a little entertaining mayhem."

Wes ducked and dived out of the way as Mirloc brought the weapon up. There was a brilliant flash, a sizzling burst of sound as a thick beam sliced the air, and the building behind him was hidden in a fireball of energy. When it cleared, Wes could see a ragged hole blown in the wall. There were screams and shouts, and a few people began running out.

Without a conscious thought, he had his Chronoblaster in his hand and was firing back, targeting Mirloc. The blast hit and he saw the alien stagger, almost dropping the large weapon. But the others were spreading out, coming after him. He couldn't take all of them out...

- - -

Eric and Nick were running towards the tense scene ahead when they saw Mirloc bring up his blast rifle and blow a fiery hole in the building behind Wes. If he hit one of them with that thing... Eric dismissed the thought from his mind and leaped forward, drawing the Quantum Defender in midair and firing at the two lizard-like aliens as they and their pals moved in on Wes. He hit both. Then he was back on the ground and sprinting towards Mirloc - had to get that weapon away from him - a glance back showed Wes slashing at one of the other aliens with his Chronosaber, and Nick as he kicked the last one in the gut and then blasted him. They'd be okay...

But would he? Mirloc was up already. Eric threw himself into a slide and knocked Mirloc's legs from under him, cursing as he saw and heard another blast from that thing. He looked just long enough to see more of the same building vanish in a burst of flame and exploding brick and concrete. Then he was springing to his feet, whirling into a kick, seeing the blast rifle fly out of Mirloc's hands. The alien snarled and fought back viciously, doubling Eric over with a kick and then punching him hard enough to lift him off his feet and drop him onto his back. He rolled up.

"Eric, watch out!"

Wes's shout distracted his attention to the two other aliens he had blasted a moment before, now recovered, an instant before one of them grabbed him from behind, pinning his arms, and the other threw a punch at him. There was a flash of red as Wes ran by and tackled Mirloc just as he was reaching for his blaster rifle.

Eric brought his legs up to kick the lizard in front of him hard in the chest, then continued the motion to go into a backwards flip over the head of the one holding his arms, freeing himself in the process. Landing on his feet, he sidekicked that one onto the first, pulled the Defender, and shot each of them as they started to get up. This time they collapsed and stayed put.

And the others? Eric took a quick look around. Nick was herding the last of the civilians from the building to safety. The other two aliens were lying on the pavement, obviously out of action for a while. Wes seemed to be getting the worst of his fight with Mirloc. The guy was tough, all right. Eric ran to help his partner as Wes was hit with a backhand and fell, groaning.

"Give up and save yourself some trouble, Mirloc," Eric growled. "You can't beat both of us."

"Make that three of us," Nick said, appearing on Eric's other side.

"I suppose you're right," Mirloc said. Impossible to see any expression on his face, but he didn't sound defeated...

"Get him, fast!" Nick shouted. An instant later his own Chronoblaster was in his hand. But it was too late. Mirloc, with a flare of light from his glowing eyes, had vanished.

"What - where'd he go?" Wes asked, turning to look around him.

"He can transport himself through any reflection," Nick said tensely. He took a step, his blaster still clenched in his hand. "Water from that burst fire hydrant. Broken glass. Our own damn helmets. Anything!"

"But - how do we catch someone like that?"

"Knock him out before he knows what hit him. If we can."

"Think he's coming back?" Eric asked.

"Don't know. Stay alert." Nick bent to pick up the blast rifle as Eric heard the wail of sirens approaching, and started back the way they had come. "At least we got this away from him. Come on; let's get it back to SPD. I'm sure Kat would love to take a look at it."

"I really can't allow that." The voice came from behind them. Startled, they all swung around - and saw Mirloc step out of the glass of a store window several yards away. He had a small black box in one hand, which he held up. "Three for the price of one. Goodbye, Rangers."

Mirloc pressed the button and, in a flash of light, was gone into the glass again. Eric heard Nick start to say something, saw Wes take a step, started forward himself. And then everything vanished into a blast of light and heat and noise and pain.

- - -

"Commander Myers! Eric! Can you hear me?"

The voice was familiar. Eric knew he should know who it was - but when he pried his eyes open, the face didn't match. It was the face of an ordinary-looking man with big brown eyes - like a dog...

"Commander Myers, it's Anubis Cruger." The voice lowered. "In hologrammatic disguise. Are you all right?"

"I - I guess so." Eric tried sitting up, winced, and waited for his head to stop spinning and his ears to stop ringing. "What happened?"

"An explosion." Cruger looked away.

Eric followed his gaze. It was coming back. The street, now littered with more debris. The fight... Mirloc... There had been an explosion, strong enough to demorph him and knock him out. And... He saw Kat, also in human disguise, crouching next to a body dressed in red lying half-covered with rubble. Another, in jeans and a red shirt, lay nearby with a couple of SPD officers bending over it. Wes. Nick. But - which was which? Heedless of his head, no longer feeling anything but panic, Eric scrambled to his feet, hardly noticing Cruger's steadying grip on his arm. He stumbled closer.

The one in jeans was Wes. As Eric dropped to his knees beside him, Wes groaned and stirred, and opened his eyes. "Eric?" he said, his voice dazed.

"Yeah. Are you okay?"

"Think so. Yeah." Wes groaned again as he pushed himself to a sitting position. "What - what happened?"

"Mirloc. That rifle of his must have had a self-destruct. He set it off and got away." Eric turned to look at the other form he had seen, still unmoving, Kat hunched near it with her head bowed. "Nick - he was holding it..."

It was Nick, still recognizable despite the dirt that had smeared on his face and the blood from his wounds. Despite the way his half open eyes stared vacantly. He was still in the Ranger suit that was a duplicate of Wes's, but someone had removed the helmet. And Eric knew beyond any doubt that he was dead.

"Nick?" He heard a choked voice that he hardly recognized as his own. Someone was saying something... Wes was beside him, an arm around him. He sagged, held up only by his partner's strength and support, as all he could feel was numbness, and all he could say was, "Nicky..."

- - -

TBC...


	17. Separations part 4 'warmth'

Wes, Eric, and all other characters from Power Rangers belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.  
Anyone you don't recognize is mine.

Rated T: language, violence, sexual content including m/m sexual relationships.

**A/N:** This is a response to the Power Rangers Slash Write 22 challenge, a slash-oriented romance theme challenge. A link to the challenge site on LiveJournal is in my profile.

Reviews are always appreciated.

**Turns in the Road**

* * *

Separations, part 4

- - -

_Are you awake?_

All he had to do was ask. Wes turned his head, the words on his lips, but the tension in the shadowy outline of Eric's shoulders, something in the set of the back turned to him, made them die unspoken. Of course Eric was awake, of course he couldn't sleep, any more than Wes himself could.

He closed his eyes and tried to relax, searching at least for rest if he couldn't find sleep. Under the quiet of Eric's hotel bedroom he could hear distant murmurs - voices, footsteps. The world went on outside, Newtech City did not sleep either on this restless night after Mirloc's attack.

But the dark behind his lids only allowed the scenes of that day to begin their cycle again. The drive from Silver Hills, full of plans and optimism. The vision of smoke rising above the tall buildings of midtown. The search to find the source of destruction. The battle with Mirloc and his gang. The blast rifle - Mirloc with his little black box, pressing a button and stepping though window glass into nothing - the thump of his own heart as he felt an instant of dread...

And then the nightmare vision of Nick lying dead, looking so much like himself in that suit that Wes had to blink to make sure he was the one still alive, at least in those first disorienting moments. But then the sight of Eric's face had driven away any thoughts of his own reactions.

There hadn't been much time to think after that. They had made sure the four alien criminals they had defeated were secured and taken away. Then they had watched as Nick had been put into a black body bag, Eric looking away at the moment when they zipped it closed over his face. After a trip to the local hospital to make sure their own injuries were not serious they had gone to SPD headquarters to report the details of what had happened to Cruger and Kat. The questions, the discussion, the analysis and second guessing; all of it had gone on until he was too tired and numb to be sure of what he was saying, but finally it had been over, and they had left in the dark of night.

Wes's car had been crushed by debris, but they had found Eric's only slightly damaged and, finally, trailed into the hotel. Neither had said anything about Wes getting his own room for the night; after a quick dinner which neither really wanted they had come to the room, undressed, and made love, for comfort rather than pleasure, or perhaps to prove to themselves that they were both still alive.

Again Wes turned his head towards the form lying in the bed beside him. Eric's back was turned; he was on his side half curled up. His usual sleeping position, but tonight instead of his usual graceful relaxation every line in Eric's body spoke of tension, visible even in the pale, dim half-light filtering through the hotel room drapes.

After his initial shock, Eric might have seemed more angry than grieving, more cold than sorrowful, but Wes knew better. Eric stirred slightly, and sighed, his breath uneven, a small sound escaping. Wes moved closer behind him, spoon-fashion, and reached a hesitant hand to his shoulder, avoiding a patch of scraped skin. He could feel the muscles jump under his touch. "Eric..." he said.

"What?" The word was muffled, abrupt but without any anger.

He could hardly ask 'Are you crying?' so Wes settled for, "Are you all right?"

"I'll live."

Silence again. Wes knew what they were both thinking about. Might as well talk about it. "I hope Cruger's right, that SPD will get Mirloc soon."

"I wish I could go after him myself." There was an almost frightening depth of hatred in Eric's voice. "SPD'll just lock him up. I'd like to take care of him _my_ way. Permanently."

"Believe me, I've thought about it too. But Cruger said they detected his ship leaving Earth." Privately Wes thought it was just as well that Eric wouldn't get his chance for revenge.

"And Cruger thinks Gruumm is behind it. That he hired Mirloc to stop the Ranger program." Eric's muscles tightened even more. "Won't do him any good."

"No, they're just going to work harder than ever." Wes hesitated. "Do you think Kat was right, that Nick's morpher malfunctioned?"

"You mean - would he have lived if the suit had used up all its energy protecting him until he demorphed, the way we did?" Eric sighed. "I don't know. Maybe, or maybe the explosion damaged it. He was holding that damn blaster when it blew up; maybe nothing could have saved him. All I know is - if Kat and Zaskin learn something out of this, and improve the morphers, and that saves somebody else someday - then at least Nick won't have died for nothing."

So much anger, so much grief. Nick must have meant a lot to Eric - more than he had ever admitted. Uninvited and unwanted, jealousy reared its head, bringing guilt with it. "You loved him, didn't you?" Wes asked, realizing too late that the question could be taken as an accusation. "I mean - I can see this is really hard for you. I just want to help."

"I know." Eric's hand came up to take Wes's and draw it down and around him into an embrace. "Wanna know what the first thing was that I thought when I saw he was dead?"

"If you want to tell me."

"I thought, 'Thank God it's not Wes.'"

Wes had no idea how to respond to that, so all he did was move in closer, carefully molding himself to Eric and finally feeling some of his partner's tension melt in the warmth of their combined body heat.

Eric took an unsteady breath. "That sounds terrible, doesn't it, to be glad it was him?"

"Not to me."

"I was never in love with Nick, not like with you. But I guess, sort of..."

"You still loved him. There's more than one kind of love." Wes found himself wondering how _he_ would feel if he saw Jen die, and shuddered inwardly.

"I guess I did." Eric sighed shakily again. "Nick deserved a lot better. I should have treated him better when we were together. Today - I've been a Ranger longer; I should have watched out for him."

"There's nothing you could have done. Like you told Kat and Cruger, it's Mirloc's fault, nobody else's."

"Yeah. I can tell them that, and I can tell myself that, but it's not so easy to believe it."

"It's true." But Wes knew it would be a while before he really believed it himself. If they had been a little more alert, if one of them had thought of the possibility of a trap... But all the what-ifs in the world wouldn't change anything.

Eric moved, easing onto his back, sliding an arm under Wes's head to wrap around his shoulders. "Nick was glad we got together. You and me. Said he wanted me to be happy with you."

"Damn. And I was jealous of him."

"You were?" Wes thought he saw a tiny smile curve Eric's lips in the dimness.

"Well, yeah. Kept thinking about the two of you spending time together again. Now I feel pretty ashamed."

"Don't. We'll all human, I guess. But you know you had nothing to be jealous of."

"I know now."

They slipped into a comfortable silence, wrapped in each other's arms, for a few minutes. As Wes was starting to drowse at last, Eric spoke up again, his voice not much above a whisper. "I'm glad Nick got what he wanted with Lyn... for a while... Wonder how she's taking it..."

Wes frowned. "Must be terrible for her." Cruger had sent two SPD officers who were friendly with Lyn to notify her. She wasn't alone - and yet, in a deeper sense, she was. Eric was grieving, but he still had someone who loved him. Who did Lyn have to comfort her; who could she depend on?

"He should have had more time... He'll never see Sky grow up..."

The idea brought Wes's eyes open again. "But _we_ can."

"What do you mean?"

"We could kind of look out for them both. Make sure they're okay. We'll be down here sometimes to work with Kat and Dr. Zaskin probably; maybe we could see them then. If Lyn'll let us, maybe we could take Sky to the park or ball games, or whatever a dad usually does."

This time Eric definitely chuckled, very softly. "Yeah, the guy whose father walked out on him and the guy whose father was always too busy for him, playing daddy."

"Well, we can try."

Eric turned his head to look at him. "You'd be willing to do that?"

Wes smiled. "Yeah. Making sure his family is okay is the right thing to do for Nick."

"The right thing. Be nice to be able to do something for him." Eric brought his face closer for a kiss, warm and gentle, his fingers just brushing Wes's cheek. Then he lay back as they adjusted into a more comfortable position, still entwined together. He sighed, finally relaxing. "Better try to sleep."

Wes could feel exhaustion pulling him down, despite the aches of his physical injuries and the deeper ache in his heart. But he had hardly known Nick; what he felt must be only an echo of what Eric was going through right now. He opened his eyes, not surprised to find his partner still staring at the ceiling. "Are you all right?" he asked again.

"We're together again, aren't we? Not just tonight, I mean... no matter what?"

"Of course we are."

"Then I'm all right."

- - -

TBC...


	18. Home 'kissing in the rain'

Wes, Eric, and all other characters from Power Rangers belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.  
Anyone you don't recognize is mine.

Rated T: language, violence, sexual content including m/m sexual relationships.

**A/N:** This is a response to the Power Rangers Slash Write 22 challenge, a slash-oriented romance theme challenge. A link to the challenge site on LiveJournal is in my profile.

Reviews are always appreciated.

**Turns in the Road**

* * *

Home

- - -

The day of the funeral was appropriately dreary, a gray drizzle drifting from the sky without even the energy to be a rainstorm. Wes tried to concentrate on the words being spoken over Nick's gravesite, but his eyes kept returning to the grave itself, waiting to swallow up what remained of a good man. He shivered at the memory of cold, and the smell of earth.

"Wes..." Eric's voice was only a whisper, but his arm around Wes's back was strong and steady.

"I'm okay." Resolutely Wes forced the images away. This was no time to be thinking about old fears. He glanced sideways to where Lyn Tate was standing, her blonde head bowed, a pale little boy clinging to her hand, his eyes wide with the confused hurt of a child who doesn't yet understand why Daddy is never coming back.

On the other side was Wes's father, with Lina. They had flown back for the funeral, and to hold a press conference afterwards. From the way they were talking, they might not leave again anytime soon. It hadn't been much of a honeymoon for them.

And there was Eric. He hadn't said much since the night after it had happened, but he didn't have to; the signs of grief were there for someone who knew him very well. Wes slipped his own arm around Eric and they leaned on each other in the quiet rain.

- - -

"Wonder how they'll take it," Eric said, his voice lowered, as he peered out from the half-open side door of the large SPD meeting room where the press conference was about to start. It was packed with reporters and bristling with cameras.

Wes, standing beside him, shrugged slightly. "The press? Who knows? But if anyone can spin things the right way, it's Dad and Cruger."

"Yeah," Eric muttered. "But aliens? The whole world could go into a panic. Just what SPD's been trying to prevent."

"There's no choice," Wes said. "Too many people saw Mirloc and his gang. We have to tell the truth."

"I guess." Eric frowned. "I'm a little surprised Doggie's here. He hardly ever comes out where he has to use a hologram to look human. Probably afraid someone'll bump into his nose."

Wes gave him an amused look. "Doggie? You don't call him that to his face, do you?"

"That's what Nick called him, so he'd better get used to it." Eric glanced over his shoulder into the small office they were all standing in, to see Mr. Collins still huddled with Cruger and Kat, in their human disguises, and Dr. Zaskin. As he watched, Collins and Cruger shook hands with an air of determined finality. Mr. Collins stepped to the center of the room and looked around at all of them.

"It's time," he said quietly. "Dr. Manx, Commander Cruger, and I will conduct the press conference. I'd like the rest of you out there too, if you don't mind. There might be questions you can answer."

Wes glanced at Eric before they both nodded.

"Good. Then let's get out there and get this over with."

There was a rustle of papers and a murmur of anticipation as Collins stepped out into the conference room with Kat behind him. Cruger began to follow, but paused and stepped aside to speak to Wes and Eric.

"Thought you'd want to know," he said in a low voice, "I've heard from SPD Central Command. They captured Mirloc not far from your solar system. He's being taken to a specialized maximum security prison. Justice will be done, for this crime as well as all the others he has committed."

"Good. I hope he rots," Eric muttered, and headed for the door.

- - -

"As all of you know, Newtech City came under attack three days ago. Thanks to the efforts of the Rangers, including my son Wesley Collins and Eric Myers, while there was heavy damage to several buildings casualties were kept to a minimum. Unfortunately, one of those casualties was SPD's own Nicolas Tate. In his time as the first SPD Ranger he proved himself to be a true hero, and he will always be remembered as one."

Mr. Collins paused to look directly into the video cameras that were carrying his image across the country as he stood behind the long table that was serving as a stage, Cruger seated on one side and Kat on the other. Watching from a row of chairs along the side of the room, Eric could see a muscle clench in his employer's jaw. Now came the hard part.

"Many of you - no, _all_ of you - have been wondering where the five criminals who perpetrated this crime came from, and who or what they are. You've been wondering where the four captured by the Rangers are being held. We are going to answer those questions now."

Every reporter in the room seemed to be holding his or her breath as Collins continued. "Over the years, we've all seen some very strange things, especially in California. In Silver Hills, my home, we suffered repeated attacks of this nature nine years ago. That time it was mutants. This time - the criminals who appeared here were aliens. The kind of aliens who come from other planets, other worlds."

Collins waited for the rustle of surprise and excitement that greeted this to settle down. "To answer the next question most of you are probably thinking about, they are no longer on Earth. Their leader, Mirloc, escaped but was captured in space only today. The other four have been deported to answer for their crimes. They were not turned over to the police for two reasons: because the prisons here are not designed for aliens, and because they have committed other crimes - elsewhere. We at SPD felt the only realistic course of action was to turn them over to another authority, better equipped to deal with them.

"Which brings me to my last point. What you have known as the Special Police Division of Bio-Lab is in fact an Earth-based outpost of another organization. Space Patrol Delta is an interplanetary law enforcement and defense association dedicated to protecting planets like Earth from criminals like Mirloc."

There was another muted buzz of conversation. Collins waited patiently for the reporters to focus their attention on him again. "And now, Commander Anubis Cruger of SPD will explain in more detail."

Again the atmosphere seemed to crackle with tension as Cruger slowly got to his feet. "Good afternoon," he said solemnly. "Three days ago, we all saw an example of what aliens of evil intent are capable of doing on Earth, of the harm they can and did inflict. We all suffered from that harm. For myself and the others at SPD, we lost a man we had worked with for years, a man we valued and who will be missed sorely.

"Now, the natural reaction for many of you will be anger and distrust of all aliens. You may decide that the best course of action for Earth is to remain isolated, to prevent anyone from other parts of the galaxy from making any contact with Earth, let alone allow them to settle and live here. However, I am here to tell you that this would be a mistake. There is a vast universe out there, filled with life, and even in this small corner of space some of that life will inevitably come your way.

"Indeed, it already has. For the last several years, we at SPD have been working to protect Earth from criminals like Mirloc. We have been working, and continue to work, to protect and defend it from the possibility - or rather, the probability - of even larger threats. I ask of all of you, every person on Earth - don't judge all aliens by Mirloc and his companions. Just as some humans commit evil, so do some aliens. But just as most humans at least try to do the right thing, so do most of us."

Cruger raised his chin. "Yes, I said 'us'. You already have aliens living and working among you, and I am one of them. I hope you will allow us to remain, and to continue in our mission to preserve the peace of the galaxy."

Raising a hand, he touched his tie clip, pressing it lightly. For a moment, his form wavered and blurred, and then snapped back into clarity. A large, blue, scaly-skinned dog's head on a stocky humanoid body faced the reporters unflinchingly as Kat stood also, swallowed nervously, and deactivated her own disguise. Glancing around, Eric saw a few of the other SPD employees standing and sitting along the walls blur and reappear in various other shapes.

There was a chorus of gasps and exclamations, an uproar as a few reporters seemed about to run, a blaze of flashes as the photographers took pictures, a flurry of motion as video cameras tried to capture as much of the scene as possible. Cruger waited, unmoving, as the commotion ran its course until his voice could be heard again, and then asked quietly, "Any questions?"

- - -

It was over two hours later before the questioning had been ended and the members of the press were finally escorted out. Wes had gotten into a discussion of Bio-Lab business with his father after that. Tired of the talking and in need of fresh air, Eric was headed for the front door, thinking of taking a short walk and vaguely surprised to see through the front windows of the building that it was still day. He was more surprised to see a blond woman in the lobby, no longer dressed in black but still surrounded by an almost visible veil of mourning, a little boy close at her side as they stood looking at the model of SPD's future headquarters that Zaskin had shown him only a few days ago.

He and Wes had only seen Lyn twice since Nick's death: in a brief and awkward condolence visit the next day, and at the funeral. Eric remembered that he wanted to talk to her about what Wes had suggested, but - was it too soon? On the other hand, he and Wes would be leaving - there might not be another opportunity for a face-to-face conversation for quite a while. As he was hesitating, trying to decide, she looked up and saw him.

"Mrs. Tate," he greeted her, coming closer. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, under the circumstances," she said.

"Do you need anything?"

"No. We're just - looking around."

"Looking around."

She glanced back at the model, avoiding the implied question. "I saw the news conference on TV. I think Doggie and Kat were very brave to tell everyone the truth. I'm glad Nick had the chance to work with people like that."

"So am I. But they were lucky to be able to work with him, too."

She nodded, not looking up. "Thank you."

Eric took a deep breath. Now was as good a time as any to say what he wanted to say. "Uh... If you ever need anything, anything at all... Well, I want you to know you can always come to me and my partner, Wes Collins. Maybe we could call you sometimes, and maybe help out with Sky. Nick - Nick meant a lot to me, and..." He ran out of words and trailed off as she looked up.

He saw something challenging in the depths of Lyn's eyes as she said, "Nick told me once there was a man in the Army. They were very close. _Very_ close."

Eric wasn't quite sure why he didn't lie or just not respond - except that this was Nick's wife, and for whatever reason he knew he owed her his honesty. "You're right," he said. "Nick and I had - a relationship. But I want you to know, all that ended when I got out of the Army, before he ever met you. When we saw each other again we were just friends. You're the one he loved."

"I see." She fixed him with that keen gaze for another few moments. "And is that why you want to help us?"

"That's part of it. But also - Nick was a Ranger, a great Ranger, and that means a lot to me and Wes. I mean it; whatever we can do to help, just ask."

"Thanks. I'll think about it." She stared for another few moments and then nodded. They began to walk slowly towards the exit with Sky following. As they reached the door she turned to face him again, looking thoughtful. After a long hesitation she said, "There may be something you can do."

"Name it."

She sighed and looked around, and then reached out to ruffle Sky's hair, pulling him closer. "I came here today because I wanted Sky to see where his father worked. To know something about him. To make sure he remembers Nick the way he was, as a person, not just as a face in a fading photograph." Lyn looked up, the brightness of her eyes and the tremble of her lips betraying the tears she was holding back. "Do you know what I mean?"

"Yes, of course."

"You knew Nick before I did. When Sky gets a little older, maybe you could tell him what Nick was like then. Make his father stay alive for him."

"I'd be proud to." Eric looked down at the little boy staring up at him solemnly. "In fact - wait right here. I'll be back."

- - -

They were sitting on a bench in front of the building when he returned. As he approached, they stood up and came to meet him. Eric held out what he was carrying, and let Sky take it in his little hands.

"This was your father's helmet," he said. "This is what he wore when he was a Ranger. Keep it, and it'll always remind you that he was a hero."

He let his eyes come up to meet Lyn's, and saw her smile.

- - -

"Cruger and Kat let you take the helmet?" Wes asked.

"Kat has the rest of the suit for her tests and so on. If she needs the helmet, she can borrow it." Eric smiled. "I convinced them that Sky should keep it."

"I would have liked to see _that_ conversation," Wes said. They rode on in silence for a few minutes, as he looked out the window and tried to imagine Eric arguing with Cruger. Talk about an irresistible force and an immovable object. Except he wasn't sure which was which.

Despite the day being almost over and the drizzle which had turned into a steady rain, they had both decided to return to Silver Hills that night. Wes had declined his father's offer of a ride back in a company helicopter, and with his own car destined for the junkyard was riding in Eric's car. A couple of hours alone together, a little comfortable conversation, the prospect of home ahead - for the first time in days, he could feel his mood lifting.

Eric broke the silence, his voice serious and a little hesitant. "Nick and I talked about you. About you wanting to move in, and me saying no, and the problems we've been having."

"Yeah?" Wes said, surprised and not sure he liked the idea. "What did he say?"

"The guy always had guts. Nick was never afraid to say what he thought, and he thought I was wrong." Eric smiled again, this time with a tinge of sadness. "Among a lot of other things, he told me I'm ashamed of being gay."

"_What?_" Wes stared. "That's ridiculous. Isn't it?"

"That's what I said too, but now I'm not so sure. What you said that night, that nothing terrible was going to happen if people find out about us, and then what he said - it made me think. Then Kat and Cruger today, standing up there and showing the whole world who they really are. That took guts, too. So I started to wonder... what am I really afraid of? If they can do it, why can't I?"

"A lot to think about," Wes said after a pause, trying to sound neutral.

"Yeah." Eric slid him a sidelong look. "Anyway, I figure with aliens running all over the planet, no one's gonna notice two gay guys moving in together."

"Yeah, things are going to be pretty interesting with- huh?" Wes looked at him in astonishment.

Eric kept his eyes on the road, but he was smiling again. "I mean, if you haven't changed your mind about living with a jerk like me," he said.

Wes could feel a grin starting to grow inside himself, struggling to get out - but - "Are you sure?" he asked. "I mean, have you thought about it? Is this really what you want?"

Eric nodded, his voice quiet and serious again. "Yeah, I'm sure. After what happened - well, life's too short to waste time on being afraid. I want us to live together, and the hell with anyone who doesn't like it. I've fought for everything good in my life. This is worth fighting for too."

"Pull over."

"What? Why?"

"Don't argue, just do it. Pull over and stop the car."

Eric looked confused and a little apprehensive, but he obeyed, pulling onto the shoulder of the highway and coming to a stop.

The moment the parking brake was engaged Wes slid over, reached out to pull Eric closer, and kissed him - a long and lingering kiss, filled with happiness and hope as Eric's arms reached around him, tightening. They pressed together, intensifying the kiss into something deeper than a physical embrace, something that made Wes's heart lift as the rain grew heavier, as sheets of water cascading over the windows seemed to lock them into their own half-lit little world and wash away the rest of reality, as the drumming of raindrops and the occasional whoosh of the windshield wipers almost drowned out the softer sound of their own breathing.

After a while Wes pulled back, raised a hand to stroke Eric's cheek, and finally let that grin out. "Okay," he said. "Now we can go home."

- - -

TBC...


	19. Housewarming 'laughter'

Wes, Eric, and all other characters from Power Rangers belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.  
Anyone you don't recognize is mine.

Rated T: language, violence, sexual content including m/m sexual relationships.

**A/N:** This is a response to the Power Rangers Slash Write 22 challenge, a slash-oriented romance theme challenge. A link to the challenge site on LiveJournal is in my profile.

Reviews are always appreciated.

**Turns in the Road**

* * *

Housewarming

- - -

"Leaving, sir?"

Eric glanced up at the sound of Steve Miller's voice, to see his and Wes's second in command watching from a few feet down the hall as he closed his office door. Considering Eric was wearing his street clothes instead of his uniform despite the fact that it wasn't even lunchtime yet, the conclusion seemed obvious. "Yes, I'm taking off," he said. "I'm... uh..."

"Helping Commander Collins get moved in?"

Eric looked up, only to see a slight smile on his co-worker's face. Wes and he had agreed not to hide the fact that they were moving in together, but... _Dammit, Wes, did you have to actually tell people?_ Warily searching for any hint of mockery or disdain, he said defiantly, "Well, yeah, as a matter of fact."

"Very well, sir." Steve's face had returned to its usual professional blankness.

"Okay. See ya tomorrow," Eric said, turning away, suddenly anxious to get out of there.

"Right, sir. Sir?"

Bracing himself, Eric turned back. "What is it?"

"If you and Wes need any help, just let us know."

"Huh? Oh. Uh. Okay."

Surprised, puzzled, suspicious, but pleased, Eric watched him about face and walk away.

- - -

_It's his home too, now._

It was still a strange thought, exciting but more than a little disturbing. A strange thought, but one that Eric had found himself taking out and turning over in his mind now and then like a shiny new toy in the two weeks since they had gotten back from Newtech City and the shock and grief of Nick's death had begun to ease. While Wes had spent most of his nights at Eric's house - _at our house_ - this was the day he was bringing his things and officially taking up residence, a day Eric had looked forward to with both eagerness and a large dose of uneasiness. Now, as his doorbell rang, he decided the uneasiness was winning out.

Still, Eric made sure he was wearing a smile as he opened the door to see Wes standing between two suitcases. "Good morning," he said.

"Good morning yourself."

"How'd it go? Got everything?"

"I think so. At least for now."

"You could just use your own key, you know," Eric said as he opened the door wider to let Wes carry one of his suitcases inside.

"Yeah, I know. Doesn't feel right to just walk in yet, I guess. Besides, you can help with the suitcases."

"Sure," Eric said. He leaned out to grab the other one, put it down in the entranceway and started to close the door.

"Hey!" Wes exclaimed. "Don't close it yet. I've got more stuff in the car."

"More?" Eric eyed the two large suitcases.

"Sure. I'm not here on vacation, you know, I'm moving in. There's another couple suitcases. Hope you don't mind."

"Of course not. This is your home too."

Wes grinned and brushed a kiss across Eric's lips before heading back out to the car, where he opened the trunk and pulled out two more suitcases, both just as big as the first set. Eric went to join him and took one of them, manfully resisting the urge to glance around and see if the neighbors were watching.

"Well, that's it for now," Wes said as they walked back to the door.

"For now?" Eric asked, with a distinct twinge of dismay.

"Yeah, I'm having the rest shipped. Only three trunks. The rest of my clothes, my books, my CDs and DVDs, my sheets and some blankets and towels - thought we could use them here - some stuff like decorations and stuff... You know. And of course my TV and stereo. We can figure out where to put them."

"Uh - sure." Eric firmly dismissed the image of his little house bursting from the strain of Wes's possessions in addition to his own.

"I hope there's room." Wes gave him an apologetic glance.

"No problem. We'll manage. Half of the place is yours, after all."

"Thanks!" Wes grinned as Eric closed the front door and they lugged the suitcases into the living room. "I can have my furniture shipped as soon as we decide what we can use."

"Furniture?" Eric asked weakly, the dismay making a triumphant comeback.

"Well, yeah. Just the stuff in my bedroom. Dresser, night tables. And my bed."

"Your bed? What's wrong with _my_ bed?"

"Nothing. Except the mattress is about a hundred years old. There's this loose spring that always pokes me in the ribs."

_It's his home too now._ Eric planted the thought firmly in his mind, and a smile even more firmly on his face. "Wouldn't it be easier to just get a new mattress?"

"Sure! Great, we can go shopping tomorrow." Wes gave him another smile before picking up a suitcase and walking into the bedroom.

Eric repressed another image, this time of the two of them shopping for a mattress together, a horde of salesclerks whispering and laughing behind their backs. "Okay, if you want," he said, teeth clenched, as he followed.

"We could put my bed in the guest room. I mean - that sleeper sofa is kinda old, right? And it's small. You - I mean we - could use something better, couldn't we?"

"I guess." Eric reminded himself that Wes was right. The furniture in the guest room was all junk he had gotten secondhand, chosen for price rather than quality. Resenting Wes _saying_ it was junk was - just stupid.

"Great!" Wes put the suitcase down and looked around the bedroom with a speculative expression. Eric steeled himself as his partner said, "Maybe we could get some new curtains while we're at it? If you want to, of course."

"Why? What's wrong with my curtains?"

"Well, they're getting a little faded."

"They look okay to _me_."

Wes gave him an uncertain look, and shrugged after a moment. "Okay, no problem."

_It's his home too now._ Eric took another look at the windows, trying to see them through Wes's eyes: worn material, faded color, unraveling threads... He smiled, more or less sincerely. "You know, you're right. I guess I just never noticed. We can get new ones."

His face lighting up again, Wes moved in, his lips pressing Eric's, and paused a moment longer to take his hands. "Have I mentioned I'm really happy to be here?" he murmured. "Really happy we're going to be living together?"

"First time today." Eric closed his eyes and leaned into a deeper kiss.

"Mmmm... No more getting up and leaving after we have sex," Wes said. "Now I can just roll over and go to sleep, like every other guy. This is going to be great."

Eric chuckled. That part, at least, he had no reservations about, as he remembered nights of forcing himself to stay awake long enough to say a proper goodbye.

But Wes was already on the way back to the living room. When Eric followed, he was looking around, turning in a circle and making a sweeping gesture to take in the whole house. "Man! Can't believe it - this is actually where I live now!"

His enthusiasm made Eric feel a little ashamed of his own reactions so far. _Just remember - his home too._ "You haven't been away from your father's house much, have you?"

"Just school, and the clock tower. Living in a dorm didn't feel like this, and living with the guys was different too. Both times, I was pretty sure I'd go back someday. This is like-" Wes turned back to him, his expression a little more serious. "I dunno. It's going out on my own for the first time. I mean, I know it's not really on my own, but still - Dad used to take care of everything, and make all the decisions about the house, except for my room. And the servants did all the work. Now - I have to start sharing all those responsibilities with you."

"Yeah..." Eric blinked at that thought. Shared responsibility. That was new for him, too, in the opposite way. "It's going to be different for me, too. This is the first time in years I haven't been the only one making all the decisions."

Wes smiled again. "And I really want to do my share here. Pay half the bills, do half the work." He stepped back and took another look around. "Man, I can't wait to start fixing everything up!"

"Fixing up? What do you mean?" As the dismay started to leap up eagerly, Eric firmly told it to go back where it came from.

"Well... First of all, we could paint the place."

"You think it needs it?"

Wes gave him an amused look. "When was the last time you painted?"

"I - I guess..." The truth was Eric had never even thought about it in the nine years he had lived there. "I don't remember."

"Yeah, I think it needs it. And maybe we could do something besides basic white."

"Why? What's wrong with white?"

Wes laughed this time. "White is boring. I thought gay guys were all supposed to be into interior decoration."

Eric shook his head. "I guess I must not be gay then."

"Very funny. Come on." Wes walked into the kitchen and waited for Eric to step inside. "Look at these shelves. And the sink, and the counters, and the stove."

"What's wrong-" Eric cut himself off. He already knew the answer. "Don't tell me; they're a million years old, right?"

"Right. We could use some modern appliances, some nice-looking cabinets." Wes turned to face Eric. "I want to have the whole thing renovated. Get someone in to redesign it. We did some of this stuff when we had the odd jobs shop, so I have a lot of ideas." He turned away to run his hand over the cracked surface of a countertop and pull a cabinet door open.

_A lot of ideas,_ Eric mouthed, glaring angrily at his partner's back. Right, just walk in, take over, tell me everything I have is junk, throw everything out... _His home too._ Dammit. _His home too his home too his home too!_

"Don't worry about the money," Wes was saying now. "I'll pay for it. I've saved up a lot living for free at home - I mean in Dad's house, and you've been paying for this place all this time. It's only fair."

"Yeah, right, fair." Barely in time, Eric managed to force the snarl off his face as Wes turned back, and asked in an almost normal voice, "Don't I have anything to say about it?"

"Of course you do." Wes was eying him with that uncertain expression again. "Sorry. If you don't want to, no problem. But - like I said before, I really want to do my part here. Contribute something, not just move in and - well, and still feel like it's your house and not mine too."

_His home too..._ For the first time, Eric realized what that really meant. That everything had gone from 'me' to 'we'. From 'I decide' to 'we decide'. And that he had never faced the question of whether he could live with that loss of independence, whether he could learn to share.

But the question was answered as soon as it was asked, when he looked at Wes's face, at his half-anxious, half-determined expression. After living with his parents, in foster homes, in a dorm, in Army barracks, and on his own for the last nine years, living with Wes would be a big adjustment - but with a little work, the rewards would be even bigger.

"Sorry," Eric said. "I guess I'm not good with change. But you're right, the old place could use some fixing up. Let's go for it."

- - -

It took most of the rest of the day to get Wes unpacked, rearrange Eric's things to make room, pack up and store unneeded items in the garage, and decide where they were going to put Wes's television, stereo, and furniture when they came. Eric was still wondering what they were going to do with the trunks they were expecting as he shoved the last of Wes's suitcases into the back of a closet and closed the door.

Wes was standing behind him as he turned away. "Is that it?" he asked.

"For now, anyway."

"Good." Wes stretched and yawned. "Well, I'm ready for a quiet evening at home. We can hang out for a while, have some dinner, watch some TV." He grinned and stepped closer, his hands on Eric's hips pulling them together. "And then we can try to loosen a few more springs in your mattress."

"_Our_ mattress, remember?" Eric said.

"Right." Wes chuckled. "I gotta say something."

"What?"

"I'm really glad you're taking this so well. I know you were worried about people knowing we're living together."

"Not a problem." Eric shrugged. "Doesn't bother me at all anymore."

Wes waved a hand to include the house. "And you've been on your own here for so long, it must be pretty hard to have someone else come in and - well, invade your territory like this."

"My territory?" Eric looped his arms around him. "Nah. Never crossed my mind."

Wes leaned in for a kiss, gentle and slow, his tongue flicking across Eric's lips just enough to tease. They stayed like that for a few moments until, without breaking the embrace, he murmured, "You're lying, aren't you?"

"Like a rug."

They spent a moment looking into each other's eyes. Then the corner of Wes's mouth twitched. He began to chuckle. As Eric joined in it turned into a full-out laugh, long and helpless and happy and silly and way too much for the reason behind it. But it was what they both needed, and by the time it faded into a shared grin, Eric found what remained of his tension had melted away along with the laughter.

Things were going to be just fine.

- - -

TBC...


	20. Legacy part 1 'Children'

Wes, Eric, and all other characters from Power Rangers belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.  
Anyone you don't recognize is mine.

Rated T: language, violence, sexual content including m/m sexual relationships.

**A/N:** This is a response to the Power Rangers Slash Write 22 challenge, a slash-oriented romance theme challenge. A link to the challenge site on LiveJournal is in my profile.

The background for parts of this is in my previous story, _The Secret of BioSynth_.

Reviews are always appreciated.

**Turns in the Road**

* * *

Legacy, part 1

- - -

Silver Hills, 2015

"Look, there they are," Wes said as they topped a small rise in Silver Hills Park and spotted a blonde woman and a boy approaching on the path that wound down through a scattering of trees to the expanse of lawn below. "Man, that kid gets taller every time I see him. How old is he now?" He raised an arm and waved.

"Must be eleven or twelve. I can't keep track." But Eric's casual tone was belied by the eager way he quickened his pace.

"Hey, Uncle Eric! Uncle Wes!" The boy's voice drifted up to them followed by Sky himself, at a run, as Lyn waved and followed at a more sedate pace.

"How come I'm always second?" Wes grumbled.

"'Cause I'm more fun?" Eric answered with a faint smirk.

"In your dreams." Wes raised his voice to a normal level as Sky trotted up to them. "Hey, Junior! How're you doing?"

"I'm fine, how are you?" Sky regarded him with a quick smile and then turned to Eric. "Hey, crap-face!"

"Hey yourself, shrimp."

"Barf-bag."

"Numb nuts."

"Ass-wipe."

"Rug-rat."

"Shit for brains."

"Sky!" Lyn exclaimed as she got close enough to hear. "What have I told you about your language? And _you..._" she rounded on Eric, "Didn't I ask you not to teach him that kind of vocabulary?"

"Sorry, ma'am," Eric said, looking completely unrepentant. "But he learned that stuff in school from the other innocent little kids, not from me."

"Hmm." She crossed her arms. "You could at least try to set a good example."

"I'll try." Eric held up the baseball bat, ball, and gloves he was carrying. "Wanna toss a few, kid?"

"Yeah! C'mon, over here!"

Sky took off towards a clear area of lawn with only a scattering of people walking or exercising their dogs. Eric looked after him and sighed. "Man, wish _I_ had that kind of energy."

"Getting old?" Wes asked with a snicker.

"Sure am. And you're creaking right along with me, partner, especially with that birthday you've got coming up." With a grin and a pat on the arm for Wes, he trotted after Sky.

"Yeah, thanks a lot for reminding me!" Wes called after him.

"Birthday?" Lyn asked. "Dare I ask which one?"

"The big four-oh," Wes said lightly, trying not to show that the idea dismayed him. He and Lyn headed for a bench in the shade of the trees surrounding the open area where Eric and Sky were starting to throw the ball back and forth. "Amazing the way those two get along," he said as they sat down.

"Is it?" Lyn smiled, brushing back the hair that drifted across her face in the gentle breeze. "Eric seems to me like he'd make a great father. You both would. It's too bad you two never... adopted or something."

"Yeah. I'd like to have kids." Wes shrugged. "But you know how hard it still is for gay couples to adopt, or even keep custody of their own children."

"I know." Lyn sighed. "But maybe that'll change before long, if your father has anything to do with it."

"Yeah, maybe." Wes frowned.

Lyn was watching him. "Aren't you glad he's getting involved in the gay rights movement?" she asked.

"Sure, I guess. It's just - I dunno. Weird." Somehow political activism and Alan Collins didn't seem to belong in the same sentence - and that was just the beginning of the complex of what Wes felt about what seemed to have become his father's latest mission in life. While he had to admit a part of him was deeply touched that his dad seemed so determined to stand up for his and Eric's rights, another part was uncomfortable with the situation, for reasons he wasn't entirely sure of himself.

"You're his son and he's trying to make things better for you, trying to do the right thing. I think you should be proud."

"Well, I am. It's just - I don't like the idea of him doing all this because of me and Eric." Moodily, Wes focused on his partner as he gracefully caught the ball and threw it back to Sky. "We can fight our own battles, you know?"

"You've both fought a lot of people's battles, and you still do. That's no reason to turn down help now."

"Maybe." Wes tried a smile to lighten the mood that seemed to have descended on them. "I never would have expected Dad to do something like this. You should have seen him when I first told him I'm gay, and that Eric and I were together."

"Really? What did he say?"

"Well, let's see. He blamed Eric for seducing me, and wanted to fire him. He wanted me to go to a shrink and get 'cured'. Then he just sort of turned off, and refused to talk about it."

Lyn had a half-laughing, half-disbelieving look on her face. "You're kidding! He really said that?"

"Yep."

She chuckled, and then shook her head. "I'm sorry. I'm sure it wasn't very funny for you at the time."

"At the time, no. Not funny at all." A hand touched Wes's wrist as he stared at the ground, and he looked up into Lyn's sympathetic face. "He came around pretty fast," he continued with a smile. "That's my Dad. I've given him a few shocks over the years, and - I guess he's done pretty well with them, considering."

"I guess so." Lyn watched him for a moment more. "Maybe that's part of why he's doing this now. Trying to make up for the mistakes he made in the past."

"Yeah. Meanwhile, he's gone half the time, lobbying in Sacramento or Washington or wherever, and Eric and I have been running Bio-Lab more than ever."

"Well - Alan's not young anymore. Maybe this is his way of phasing out of the company."

"I... You think so?" Wes blinked at her as the realization hit him that she could be right. His father was - how old now? Almost sixty-five. Was he thinking about retiring? Somehow the idea seemed impossible, and yet - it made sense. There was no doubt he wasn't putting as much time into Bio-Lab as he did only a few years ago. Unwilling to follow that line of thought, Wes let his eyes return to Sky. "Anyway, maybe it's just as well we never tried to adopt. We're both pretty busy. Not much time for kids."

Lyn accepted the change of subject without comment. "You make time for Sky."

"Yeah, well. We don't do the hard work, taking care of him every day."

She acknowledged that with a nod, and then looked out at the clearing again. "Still, I'm grateful for the time both of you have spent on him. The last five years, since Nick died, haven't been easy for either of us. Sky needed a father figure - or two. He hero-worships both of you, and Eric..." Her face softened. "Maybe Sky takes after Nick in that way. He admires Eric's drive. He likes it that Eric expects a lot from him. And he wants to be like him."

"Not a bad goal for a kid."

"No."

For a few minutes they sat in companionable silence except for the sounds of Eric's and Sky's shouts, carried to them on the cool air. When Wes looked at Lyn again, her head was bowed and she was studying her own hands as they fidgeted in her lap.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"Not really. Well, not anything immediate."

"I was wondering why you came up to Silver Hills this weekend. I suspect not just to go to the park with us."

"Well, no." Her shoulders lifted and sank in a sigh. "Eric once said that if we needed anything, both of you would help us."

"And now you do?" Wes reached to touch her arm and take her hand in his.

She looked up again at her son. "Yes. Now I do."

- - -

Eric tossed a high one, meant to sail over Sky's head and make him run for it. With a satisfied smirk, he watched it fly, dead on course, and then scowled as Sky moved a raised hand in a quick arc above his head. The ball stopped abruptly in midair with an almost invisible flash of the force screen it had run into, and dropped neatly into the boy's glove.

"Hey! You're not supposed to do that!"

Sky shrugged. "My mom said it's not a secret anymore."

Eric glanced around them. The kid was right, Lyn and the parents of the other two 'gifted' children of SPD had agreed it would do more harm than good to force Sky, Bridge Carson, and Sydney Drew to hide their natural abilities. But still... those few people who had seen the boy's stunt were staring. "You know the rules, Sky. No showing off in public."

"Aw..."

"There's reasons for rules, and you know the reason for this one. Not everyone is going to understand. Use your power only when you need to."

Sky pouted. "I don't care! Why shouldn't I do stuff I _can_ do?"

Eric sighed. Like every ability - and every natural tendency - it was unavoidably going to come out. The trick would be to get Sky to respect his power, and use it with restraint and for the right purposes. "Fine, force-field boy," he said, "but that's cheating. You gonna do that in a game? When other kids can't, and it's not fair?"

"Well... no." Sky didn't look very happy about it, though.

"Good. C'mon, throw it back already." He caught it and tossed it in return, this time an easier throw. "Look, you can use your power when you play with your friends Bridge and Syd, can't you?"

"Well, yeah." Sky squinted at him in the sun. "But Bridge is weird. And Syd is just a dumb _girl_."

Eric grinned. "What, you think girls are dumb?"

"Well, they _are_, aren't they?"

"Your mom's a girl."

"Aw, Mom's not a girl. She's a woman." Sky straightened, preparing to throw the ball again. "Besides, you don't like girls either!"

Startled, Eric almost missed his catch. "What are you talking about?" He tossed it back.

Sky had a suspiciously sneaky grin on his face as he explained. "I mean you're gay. You must think girls are dumb, too!" As Eric frowned in surprise, the boy fired a hard pitch which almost caught him in the chest.

"Hah! I'm on to you!" Eric exclaimed as he fielded it. "Distract the enemy, and then attack." He nodded. "Not bad."

"Thanks!"

"But let's get one thing straight." He pointed in emphasis. "Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I don't like women, or girls. I like them fine; I just don't want to - uh - do certain things with them."

"You mean _sex_!"

"Geez, you don't have to shout it like that. Yes, I mean sex." He stopped in mid-throw, struck by a horrible thought. "Uh - your mom told you about that, right? Or they told you in school?"

"Yeah." Sky looked superior. "They taught us all that stuff _years_ ago. Why, you have any questions?"

"No, smart-ass, I don't have questions." Relieved to know he would not be called on for sex education, Eric eyed the bat. "How's your hitting?"

"It's okay, I guess."

"Just okay? You want to be good at it or not?"

"Yeah, I wanna be good."

"Not just good. You want to be the best?"

"Yeah! The best!"

"All right, then. Let's do it!"

- - -

"Name it. If Eric and I can do it, we will," Wes said, adding a smile as Lyn's eyes rose to meet his.

"I don't like to ask favors... And I wouldn't, if it was something I could do myself."

"I know. You've never asked for anything before. What is it?"

"Well..." She hesitated, looked down again. "It's about my brother. Jake."

"Oh. Jake."

Involuntarily, Wes glanced in Sky's direction. The boy, along with Bridge Carson and Syd Drew, had been the innocent and unwitting cause of Jake Walsh's - 'breakdown' was a good way to put it, maybe. Lyn's brother had moved in with her and Nick Tate, Sky's father, temporarily when they all first came to Silver Hills. It had turned out that he was the author of a series of letters threatening Bio-Lab if it allowed Kat Manx to continue the experiments which had led to a genetic alteration in her team of scientists and lab assistants, an alteration which had become evident in their children's special abilities.

So far all the mutations in the children - that they knew of - had been mostly benign. But at the time, no one had known if Sky, Bridge, and Syd would turn out with some kind of disability or genetic disease, or whether they would even live past infancy. Two of the team, Maria Delgado and David Landors, had simply left, unable to face the uncertainty of their future children's fates. But Jake - he had tried to stop the experiments which eventually resulted in the development of the new SPD morphers. Tried and failed. When Lyn had heard him calling Sky a freak, she had kicked him out - he had lost his job - tried to blow up the lab and failed at that too.

"Yes," Lyn was saying, her voice low. "He seemed to do all right at that job your father got him after... well, after. I spoke to him once in a while, and after the first few months he seemed fine."

"Oh," Wes said, for lack of anything better. He knew his father had gotten Jake a job in a laboratory in Sacramento, both to get him out of town and to encourage him to keep his mouth shut.

"But - he never got together with the family for holidays - didn't want to be around Sky, probably - and after he didn't come to Nick's funeral, didn't even _call_ - well, I stopped talking to him." Her voice spoke of the pain under her words, of feeling betrayed by someone she still loved.

"I understand."

"Our parents kept in touch with Jake. But then... For the last year or so, they said he sounded... strange. Preoccupied. When they asked if anything was wrong he'd tell them he was busy, or tired, or worried about something at work. Then a couple of weeks ago his supervisor called and said he hadn't come to work for a few days and no one's been able to find him. They've been trying to call him every day. Nothing. Either he won't answer or - something's happened to him."

Lyn turned to Wes, a hint of tears in her eyes. "My parents are frantic. Jake's always been - a little unstable. They keep thinking he might have done something - you know, to himself."

"I see."

"We called the police in Sacramento and they went to his house. They said he wasn't there and there's no sign of foul play, and that's all. A missing adult with a history like Jake's isn't a priority for them. We don't want to push it; if he's involved in something he shouldn't be we don't want to get him in more trouble. My father's in poor health and my mother can't leave him, so it's up to me to find out what's going on." She looked at Wes anxiously. "You work with the Silver Guardians; you know about this kind of thing. What should I do? Hire a detective? Or just go to his house?"

Wes had already made his decision while she was talking. "We'll take care of it," he said.

"You will?"

"I'll talk to Eric, and one of us will fly up there and see what we can find out."

"Wes..." She waited for him to look at her. "I really don't want to dump this on you two. But - I have to admit, I was hoping you'd offer."

"We're Uncle Wes and Uncle Eric, aren't we? Family." Wes offered a smile, and after a moment she returned it. "Lyn, it's okay. If something's really happened, you don't know how long this might take or how much it would cost, and you've got Sky to think about. Besides, for our own sakes Eric and I should find out where Jake's gone and what he's doing."

"Why? What could he do to anyone now?"

Lyn was right. Most of what Jake had found out and tried to blackmail them with ten years ago was public knowledge now - Kat's work on morpher technology, the three kids and their powers - although the details of the accident had been kept quiet to protect everyone involved. Also the fact that Eric was gay, now that he and Wes were living together openly as a couple. And even something Jake hadn't known - Kat's being an alien.

Strange, that all those secrets which had seemed so vital ten years ago were all in the open now - and nothing terrible had happened. Since Doggie Cruger's dramatic revelation of his and Kat's real identities in his press conference after Nick had been killed, SPD had made amazing progress in bringing about public acceptance of aliens on Earth, with the help of Bio-Lab and liberal amounts of Alan Collins' influence and money. And, contrary to Eric's fears, there had been almost no reaction to Wes's moving in with him - at least very little they had seen, and Wes found himself not caring what anyone said behind their backs.

"I'm sure you're right," he said. "Jake doesn't know anything that hasn't come out anyway. Still, I'd feel better if I knew he's not carrying a grudge anymore."

Lyn was quiet, watching Sky and Eric for a few seconds before she said, "It's my parents I'm concerned about, really. They're getting up in years, and they're worried."

"And you're worried too, aren't you?" Wes asked, watching her face.

"I'm not sure I can forgive what he did. But - he's still my brother."

- - -

They stood in the same spot on the path atop that little rise as they waved for the last time, watching Lyn and Sky disappear around a bend on the way back to their car and to their lives in Newtech City. Wes sighed. "It was nice to see them again."

"It was okay."

Wes glanced up to see Eric still looking, as if trying to pick out their forms through the trees. "Admit it; you had a great time with Sky."

"He's all right, for a kid. You seemed to be having a real heart-to-heart with Lyn." Eric turned his dark eyes on Wes. "What's up?"

"What makes you think anything's up?"

The corner of Eric's mouth lifted as he slung an arm over Wes's shoulders and started them towards their own car. "I know you. Something's on your mind."

"Okay, you got me. It's Jake. Seems he's pulled a vanishing act. Hasn't showed at work for a while, and nobody can get him at home."

"Jake, huh?" Eric frowned. "Good riddance, if you ask me."

"Yeah, me too. But not to his parents - and Lyn. They're all worried. Jake never had his head screwed on too tight. She was going to go and find out what happened herself, but I told her we'd take care of it."

"Even in another city, the guy's trouble." Eric sighed. "I've got personnel reviews coming up, but they can wait a while. I can go check it out."

"_You_ don't have to do it." Wes frowned restlessly. "I can handle this stuff myself, you know."

"I know." Eric was watching him now. "Never said you couldn't."

"Sorry. It's just that with Dad gone so much, I don't get the chance to work in the field very often. I feel like..." Actually, as he had become more involved in the business end and Eric had taken over more of the Guardians work, Wes felt like he was losing touch with what he still considered his real job at Bio-Lab. "I'm the one Lyn asked. I want to do it myself," he finished.

"Okay, if that's what you want." Eric lowered his arm and took Wes's hand. "Why don't we both go? Been a while since we took a trip, or worked on a case together. And your father's in Sacramento now, isn't he? Give us a chance to see him, too."

Together? Despite his attempts to seem indifferent, Eric cared about Lyn and Sky a great deal. Naturally he would want to do his part. Plus there was the tempting image of the two of them sharing a hotel room, not to mention a hotel bed. While they had been living together for five years now, a change of scene was an appealing idea. Wes nodded and then hesitated. "Speaking of Dad..."

"Yeah?"

Wes stopped walking and they faced each other in the shade and relative solitude of the tree-lined path leading to the parking lot. "Do you think he's going to retire?"

"He's _your_ father. What do you think?"

"I don't know. That's why I'm asking your opinion."

"Wes - he's what? Sixty-five, or close? Still in great shape, but he's interested in other things, like politics, now. Yeah, I think he'll retire soon." Eric's face was unrevealing, but his fingers on Wes's tightened reassuringly.

"Man. And I guess he'll want _me_ to take over."

"Probably."

Wes shook his head. "I've thought about it, you know? But it was always someday. Not - now, or soon. I'm not ready."

Eric smiled ironically, but his voice was gentle. "You're going to be forty in a couple of weeks. When are you going to be ready?"

"Hell, I'm not ready to be forty, either." Wes sighed.

Eric moved closer, and leaned in for a quick kiss, something he would never have done in public only a few years ago. It was just another reminder that things had changed, and would keep on changing - but Wes smiled. Some changes were for the better. "You'll be a hot-looking forty," Eric murmured.

Lifted out of what had threatened to be a gloomy mood, Wes chuckled. "Yeah, you think so?"

Another fleeting kiss. "I know so."

"Prove it."

"Can you wait until we get home?"

"Just barely."

They shared another kiss, a longer and more promising one. "Then what are we waiting for?"

- - -

TBC...


	21. Legacy part 2 'Parents'

Wes, Eric, and all other characters from Power Rangers belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.  
Anyone you don't recognize is mine.

Rated T: language, violence, sexual content including m/m sexual relationships.

**A/N:** This is a response to the Power Rangers Slash Write 22 challenge, a slash-oriented romance theme challenge. A link to the challenge site on LiveJournal is in my profile.

Reviews are always appreciated.

**Turns in the Road**

* * *

A/N: In memory of Edward Laurence Albert, 2/20/51 - 9/22/06, who brought Mr. Collins to such convincing life in Time Force.

- - -

Legacy, part 2

- - -

Sacramento was bright and green and beautiful, as Wes watched it go by from the window of the rental car Eric was driving through the streets of downtown. The buildings weren't much different from Silver Hills but the parks and trees were more plentiful, perhaps because it was the state capitol and served in part as a showcase.

Speaking of the capitol - his eyes followed its columns and domes as they passed the building, and he wondered how many times his father had walked up those steps and gone through those doors, pursuing equality this time instead of money. And why did he find that thought so troubling? As Lyn had pointed out, he should be proud instead of feeling embarrassed and uncomfortable and half-wishing everything could simply go back to the way it had been years ago.

Age. That must be it. Wes sighed. An upcoming birthday, making him miss the good old days.

"Wes?"

"Hmm?" He glanced over at Eric's profile.

"Are you paying attention? You're supposed to be telling me where to turn."

"Oh. Right." Guiltily, he lowered his eyes to the map and the set of directions in his lap, hoping they hadn't already missed their street.

"Right? At the light?"

"Not that kind of right. I mean - just hold on a minute." He spotted a street sign and, thankfully, found it on the map. "Go straight here, then left at the end of the next block. It should be right around the corner."

"Good. We should make it on time."

A few minutes later they had parked in the lot next to the ordinary-looking office building where they were meeting Alan Collins. Self-consciously Wes straightened his uniform shirt as they reached the door, aware of the curious glances they had already gotten. He and Eric had decided that wearing the uniforms might be helpful when it came to interviewing Jake Walsh's co-workers, friends, and neighbors, but at Wes's insistence they had left the berets and equipment harnesses behind. On Eric's insistence they had brought their blasters.

After a brief elevator ride, the doors opened to reveal a small receptionist's area dominated by a desk with a preoccupied-looking woman busy on the phone; the walls lined with a few couches and corner tables piled with magazines. It was decorated according to his father's tastes, Wes noticed, simple and tasteful but with an understated elegance that showed in the quality of the carpeting, the paintings, and the real wood of the desk. He also noticed the golden gleam of the letters mounted across the wall facing them, spelling out 'ALLIANCE FOR EQUALITY'.

The young woman behind the desk hung up and greeted them with a perfunctory smile as they reached the desk. "May I help you?"

Wes saw Eric turn to him with an upraised eyebrow. "Yes," he said, "We're here to see Alan Collins."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"Yes - uh - I'm Wes Collins. His son."

"Oh!" She looked at him with considerably more interest, her smile becoming warm and genuine. "You're Wes! I should have recognized you from your picture." Her face turned to Eric. "And... you _must_ be Eric Myers. Right?"

"Yeah. Right." Eric nodded, not looking entirely pleased.

"Your father's said so much about both of you. Let me call him; I'm sure he's waiting."

The receptionist murmured a few words into the phone, hung up, and smiled at them again. "It's really a pleasure to finally meet both of you. Are you here to take the tour? See what we're doing? You must be so excited about all this."

"Well..." Wes hesitated. "Partly, I guess. We're in town on business and we wanted to talk to my dad. We don't get to see much of him anymore." He exchanged a glance with Eric, who had an annoying smirk on his face now.

"I can imagine. We keep him pretty busy, here and in Washington." She laughed lightly. "But I suppose that's not news to you. In fact, none of us would be here if not for you."

"Really?" Wes said.

"You're his inspiration for all of this, aren't you?" She waved a hand to include everything around them as Wes blinked. "Ah, here he is now."

Wes heard his name and turned to greet his father, who was advancing from a side door with a big smile and an outstretched hand. "Hi, Dad," he said, forgetting his uneasiness for a moment as he was enveloped in a hug.

"Son. You look good." Collins stepped back and shook hands with Eric, clapping him affectionately on the shoulder. "And so do you, of course, Eric."

"Thank you, sir."

"This isn't Bio-Lab; you can drop the 'sir'. Well, come on, I'll show you around and then we can talk."

He led them down a narrow hallway and stopped at an open door, beckoning them in far enough to see a tall, thin, elderly man at a desk. "This is James," Collins said. "James, meet my son Wes and his partner, Eric Myers."

"Ah, Wes and Eric. Heard so much about you." James' lined face suddenly creased with a grin that lit it up with an arch and flirtatious humor. "You're both even better-looking than your pictures. Alan, _where_ have you been hiding these two?"

"In Silver Hills. Someone's got to mind the store at Bio-Lab."

"Nice to meet you," Wes said.

"Anytime, handsome. And I mean _any_time"

"Interesting guy," Wes muttered as they started back down the hallway.

"Yes, he is. James has been involved in gay rights since before you two were born, and has the scars to prove it. He knows everything about everybody - which politicians support us. Which ones would like to help us but are afraid to. Which ones hate our guts," Collins said. "And which ones are in the closet," he added with a smile as he ushered them into a larger office. "We have a few more people, but all of them are out right now."

Wes looked around as they took seats. "Well - I'm impressed," he said.

"Sorry I had to make you come down here, but I have that fund-raiser I told you about tonight, and tomorrow Lina and I have to be in Washington for a meeting. Too bad we can't all have dinner and spend some time together."

"No problem, Dad. It was short notice," Wes said.

"So..." Collins looked at Eric and back at Wes. "You said this has something to do with Jake Walsh?"

"Yes, it does," Wes said. "We saw Lyn and Sky Tate day before yesterday. She said her brother's gone missing from his job, and her parents can't reach him at home. So she asked us to see if we can find out what's happened to him."

"Jake..." Collins looked thoughtful. "The job I got him was with a lab affiliated with Bio-Lab. I haven't heard anything about him from them recently, but I really wouldn't expect to; they operate pretty independently for the most part. No, all I know is that he seemed to have done well there, up until now. Sorry to hear there's a problem."

"We were wondering if he's come after you asking for money, actually," Eric said. "You gave him something when he left Silver Hills. If he decided to move on, maybe he wants more."

"No." Collins shrugged. "Nothing. Maybe money isn't his problem."

"Maybe. But money's at the root of most problems." Eric stood up. "Okay, the next step is to interview the people he worked with. I'll take care of that, and meet you back here, Wes."

"What?" Wes looked up, confused. "Shouldn't we both go?"

"This is routine stuff; it won't take both of us. I'll see you later, sir." With a nod at Collins, Eric started out.

"Eric, wait!" Wes jumped to his feet. "Dad, will you excuse us?"

Eric turned back to him in the relative privacy of the hallway. "Stay here and talk to him, Wes," he said, smiling slightly as he added, "You know you want to, and you may not get another chance for weeks."

"Yeah, but..." Wes glanced back in the direction of the office. "It doesn't have to be _now_. And _here_."

"Why not? Isn't this place and what he's doing here part of the problem?"

"Well, it's not exactly a problem. I mean, don't you think it's great, what he's trying to do?"

"Yeah, I guess so. But this gives me the creeps." Eric looked around. "I mean, sure I want the right to get jobs and live anywhere I want. And the right to hold hands with you in public and not get beaten up. But the rest of it? Marriage, and kids, and adoption?" He shook his head. "Why the hell should I want all that crap? Let the straights do it; they can have it."

Wes found Eric's words both amusing and vaguely troubling. He decided to show only the amusement, and smiled. "Yeah, but everyone who does want those things should have the right to have them."

"I dunno. The constitution says you have the right to _pursue_ happiness. Not to catch it." Eric straightened his shoulders decisively. "Anyway, I'm getting out of here before they try to make me their damn poster boy for gay rights. I'll meet you for lunch." He quickly touched Wes's hand, started away and then glanced back. "And watch your ass around that James guy."

Wes was still smiling as he returned to the office doorway, and as he paused there. Typically, his father had taken advantage of the interruption of Eric's leaving to return to work for the moment, and had his head bent over a letter or memo. The morning sun shone in through the windows around him, glinting from hair which had once been a shade or two darker than Wes's but was now mostly silver, and mercilessly highlighting every sag and wrinkle in that familiar face.

_When did Dad get so - old?_

A silly thing to wonder, of course. He only noticed because they hadn't been spending much time together lately. Or maybe it was the realization that his father would retire someday - someday soon. Things would change - they always changed - time rushes on, and you could never go back to the good things you missed, only hope that there would be more good things in the future. Wes smiled again, to himself, with regret this time. A Time Force Ranger - and yet he was as helpless as anyone else to hold back the advances of time - a progress that meant someday his father would be gone. Forever.

But that time was not yet, Wes reminded himself as blue eyes rose to meet his, still as full of life and strength as always. That day was - hopefully - a long way off.

"Is everything all right, Wes?"

"Yeah, Dad." Wes stepped inside the room and took his seat again. "You know Eric; he wants to get started on finding Jake. Besides - well, he figured I should talk to you alone."

"What's up? Problems at Bio-Lab?"

"No, nothing like that." Wes shrugged. "It's just that you've been spending a lot of time on... this." He waved a hand around them. "I mean, I think it's great what you're doing, but we've been wondering - well, what you're planning to do in the future."

"The future." Collins looked thoughtful.

"Yeah." Wes summoned a smile. "Lyn thinks you're going to retire. So does Eric."

Instead of the denial he had been expecting - or hoping for - Wes saw his father's serious expression deepen. "Retire? I've thought about it," he said slowly.

"You have?"

Collins' eyes moved restlessly past Wes to one of the windows. "I started Bio-Lab when I was in my twenties. I've devoted my life to it for the last forty years, to the point that sometimes I wondered whether I was running the company or it was running me. I loved doing it, most of the time anyway, and I was very good at it. Up until a few years ago Bio-Lab - and you and Lina, of course - were all I needed. But now it's time for me to move on to other things."

Wes watched his father's gaze return to him. "Other things - like this?"

"Yes. I've gotten very involved in gay rights."

"Why?"

Collins looked surprised at the blunt question. He smiled. "I could just say, 'why not?' But... well, I've spent most of my life in the pursuit of money." He pointed a finger. "Something I remember _you_ disapproving of pretty strongly. It's only right for me to give something back, isn't it? To use that money in a good cause."

But Wes was sure that wasn't the real reason. "Is it because of me?" he asked. "Because if it is... I think it's great, and I appreciate it, but..." He hesitated for a moment, trying to find a good way to explain how he felt. "But it's my problem and my life, Dad. You can't fix things for me forever, and I don't want you to try. I'm not saying this to insult you or anything..."

"I know that, son."

"It's just that if you do retire, you should relax and enjoy life. Not knock yourself out doing _this_."

"Wes, listen." Collins held up a hand and then paused before going on. "Remember when you first told me you were gay, and the way I reacted?"

"Well, yeah. How could I forget?" Wes said, a little ruefully.

"I know. I realized soon enough that I was wrong. Believe it or not, that's when all this really started, when I decided I needed to know more. And I learned a lot - for one thing, that ignorance is one of the biggest obstacles gay, bi, and transgender people face."

"I know you did, Dad. But - I also don't want you doing this out of guilt."

"Hear me out. Later - remember the night when Lina and I announced our engagement, and we were talking in the restaurant? Remember how you told me that you hated it that you and Eric had to hold hands under the table in public, so no one would see?"

"Yeah, I remember."

"I decided that situation was unacceptable, and I decided that something had to be done. At first I thought I'd just make a few sizable donations to a few organizations, make a few campaign contributions to the right political candidates, and express my opinion to a few people in the position to make a difference. But - slowly I got more involved."

"That's what I mean, Dad. I don't want you doing all this just because of _me_."

"And I'm not." Collins was leaning forward now, his expression intent. "I said I got _involved_. I met the people, and heard the stories, and listened to them talk about all the things they want - the same things I've always taken for granted because I'm straight. Not just the right to be safe from violence and outright discrimination. The right to be open about who you love. The right to be treated with respect. The right to marry, and adopt, and to not risk losing your own kids." His expression softened into a smile. "I'm sorry, Wes, but it isn't about you anymore. It's about everyone who's treated differently because of their sexuality. The people I work with here have accepted that I'm sincere, and I hope you can accept that too."

Not all the changes were visible on the surface, Wes realized as he watched his father's face. Behind the graying hair and the wrinkles was something much more profound, something that had taken shape so slowly and subtly over the years that he had never really seen it - until now, as a jumble of glimpses of the past ran through his mind.

_Dad walking across the lobby of their house, giving him only a quick and disapproving glance: "You're not going to be late, are you, Wesley? You know how I feel about punctuality." _

_His father's coldly harsh face peering up from a car window before rolling it shut between them: "I couldn't be more disappointed." _

_A shout following Wes across a courtyard as he turned his back: "Wesley, you walk away and you'll regret it!" _

_Silver Hills Park, not much later, his friends watching them talk, quietly and regretfully this time: "Wesley, I try, but I just don't understand you." _

_A dark office in Bio-Lab, after a long and bitter separation, a cold indifference wiping out the flash of happiness Wes had thought he saw on his father's face: "You don't come around here for months, and when you do show up you ask for a favor?" _

_Later still, a contest of wills, with Wes on the losing end as he stood facing Eric and his father in a laboratory with his teammates' future at stake: "Son, I'm sorry, but you've got to understand..." _

_And then a stark hospital room, with the father who had always been so strong and powerful lying so still and so pale, Alex's prediction of death ringing in Wes's mind, a day and night of waiting for the inevitable, returning and thinking it had come when he found an empty bed. There had been no surprise at the grief he had felt, only a sort of numb and paralyzing pain, until Wes had heard that familiar and unexpected voice and knew their history had been changed: "I heard you took my place in the company while I was away. I can't tell you how much that meant to me. But son, I don't want you to be a businessman for my sake. Your place... is with the Rangers." _

_In a time of destruction and crisis, a smile and a few quiet words of support: "I couldn't be prouder of you, son." _

_And later, after the crisis, words of sympathy - and plans for a future without Jen, Trip, Lucas, and Katie: "We'll protect the entire city - for free. But I need a good leader. What about it?"_

That had seemed like a happy ending - and it had been, with Wes agreeing to lead the Silver Guardians along with Eric. In that moment the course of his life had seemed set and settled. But life goes on, and there had been new challenges and new revelations, and another clash when Wes had finally confessed what he had denied so long even to himself, and told his father that he was gay and in love with Eric. There had been more angry words and threats on both sides, memories Wes still tried to avoid. But maybe they had learned from the first time, because this time the apologies and the changes had come quickly.

And now - from denial and rejection to acceptance and support. Wes felt a rush of confusing and conflicting emotions as his eyes met his father's. Love, certainly. Pride. Regret for the conflicts of the past - and yet, not regret - since those conflicts had ultimately brought them closer. Gratitude. And - full circle to love.

"I understand, Dad. And whatever you decide about Bio-Lab - I'm ready to step in when I'm needed," he said quietly, and was rewarded with a smile.

"Thanks, son. That means a lot." Collins cleared his throat. "We can talk about that later. Now - why don't I show you around this part of the city? Then you can call Eric and let your old man take both of you to lunch."

"Sounds good to me."

"Great." Collins stood up and led the way to the door. "I seem to remember something about you having a birthday coming up soon."

"You hadda remind me, didn't you?"

- - -

TBC...


	22. Legacy part 3 'Children'

Wes, Eric, and all other characters from Power Rangers belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.  
Anyone you don't recognize is mine.

Rated T: language, violence, sexual content including m/m sexual relationships.

**A/N:** This is a response to the Power Rangers Slash Write 22 challenge, a slash-oriented romance theme challenge. A link to the challenge site on LiveJournal is in my profile.

Reviews are always appreciated.

**Turns in the Road**

* * *

Legacy, part 3

- - -

"And that's it," Eric said, putting his coffee cup back down on the table of the small but elegant restaurant where they had just finished lunch. "I talked to Jake's boss, and his co-workers, and the people who were supposed to be his friends. None of them knew anything much worth while, except that he kept to himself. I got pretty sick of hearing that."

"So what's your next step?" Collins asked.

Eric shrugged. "His house. Unless you have any better ideas?" he asked Wes.

"Not really. What are we going to do, go to the local cops for a search warrant?"

"Nah." Eric had a faint but definite smirk on his face. "We don't need a warrant."

Wes frowned. "We can talk to his neighbors, but if he kept to himself so much we won't get much out of it."

"We can check his house. Maybe he left a door unlocked." Eric grinned and got to his feet.

A few minutes later they paused on the sidewalk, the beautiful columns of the state capitol and the park behind it in the background as they said their goodbyes.

"Bye, Dad," Wes said. "I'll be talking to you."

"Let me know how things go."

"We will. And..." he hesitated for only a moment, "thanks. For everything."

"No thanks necessary. For anything."

"Can I say thanks for lunch?" Eric asked, not quite standing at attention.

Collins smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. "It was a pleasure. Good luck to both of you, and see you soon."

Wes eyed Eric disapprovingly as his father walked in the direction of the capitol and his offices. "Even when you don't salute him, you salute," he muttered.

"What's wrong with that?"

"You're practically his son-in-law."

"God forbid." Eric grimaced. "Can we go now?"

"Uh huh. What did that crack about Jake leaving his door unlocked mean?"

Eric gave him a bland look that did nothing to reassure him. "You'll find out."

- - -

"You picked that lock while I was looking around in front, admit it," Wes was grumbling half an hour later as they stepped through the back door of Jake Walsh's small and modest rented house in one of the less expensive suburbs of Sacramento, and paused to look around a none-too-clean kitchen.

"I could have gotten the key from his landlord. Or one of his friends at work."

"But you didn't." Wes shook his head, doing his best to keep an amused smile from his face. "I thought _I_ was supposed to be the irresponsible one."

Eric rolled his eyes impatiently. "We're in, aren't we? Let's take a look around, and then we can start knocking on his neighbors' doors."

"Oh great. Just what I love, knocking on strangers' doors."

"You're the one who wanted to do this yourself." Eric's tone was absent as he looked into the sink, opened a cabinet, closed it again, and then flipped up the lid of the garbage can. "He's been here recently; the top layer of dirty dishes and garbage is pretty fresh. And look at this."

Wes stepped closer and glanced inside at a pile of empty cans, take-out cartons - and several liquor bottles glinting in the bright light. "Lots of drinking going on. And not much food."

Eric let the lid fall. "My keen detective instincts tell me our pal Jake's gone on a bender."

"Was he drinking all along? Or did something set him off?" Wes wondered. Getting only a shrug in answer, he looked around again - and then upwards as something caught his eye. "Hey, what's _that_?" he exclaimed.

Eric followed his gaze and then came closer to stand at his side. "Beats me," he said finally, still staring at the almost square metal object, about a foot on each side, sticking a few inches out of the ceiling.

"Looks like a box or something." Wes thought he could see the edge of a glass panel along one side before it met the ceiling. "Strange."

"Maybe Jake's into modern art. Come on, let's check out the rest of the place."

It wasn't until they searched the bedroom that things got interesting again, as Wes lifted a lacy garment from a dresser drawer and poked at a small pile of similar underwear, neatly folded in contrast to the masculine clothing they had already gone over. "Hey, Eric. Unless Jake's a little kinkier than we thought, I guess we need to cherchez la femme."

Eric was beside him a moment later, taking the bra from his hand and lifting a pair of panties for a better look. "No, these aren't his size," he said seriously. "Yeah, looks like Jake's got a girl. But there's only a few things here."

"Check the closet."

As Wes went through the rest of the drawers Eric quickly searched and then reported, "No clothes, but there's some empty space and a couple of old pairs of women's shoes on the floor. Definitely not Jake's size."

Wes looked up. "More empty space here. I'd say this woman was living with him, but she moved out. Probably packed in a hurry, too."

"Yeah. And recently, since Jake hasn't gotten rid of the stuff she left or rearranged his things."

"Hold on, what's this?" Wes pulled out another, larger, piece of clothing that had been stuffed in the back of a drawer and shook it out. At first he thought it was a nightgown, until he held it up.

Eric whistled. "Well. I guess that complicates things."

"Sure does." Wes frowned as he looked over the maternity shirt in his hands. "This looks worn, and it looks like it was sitting there for a while. But - no baby stuff around."

"Maybe. Or maybe we're not looking hard enough." Eric stooped, and then knelt to look under the bed. He got up, glanced under the dresser and into the closet again, and then headed back out with Wes following. In the living room, after a similar search, he straightened from reaching under the couch and held out a small blue plastic object.

"A rattle. So there _was_ a baby here," Wes said.

"Looks that way." Eric's face was grim. "He left some of his girl's stuff around-"

"-But he got rid of everything the baby used." Wes exchanged a glance with his partner. "I guess Jake'll come back sooner or later, but-"

"But neither of us feels like waiting around in this dump," Eric finished.

"Yeah. And we need to find this woman and her baby, the sooner the better."

"Right. So which neighbor should we start with, right or left?"

- - -

"This time let _me_ ask the questions," Wes said as they went up the walkway to the second of Jake's next-door neighbors, after having gotten nothing useful from the first beyond the information - again - that Jake kept to himself.

"Why? What's wrong with me asking questions?" Eric said.

"Nothing. If you're interrogating hardened criminals."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you barked at the poor guy."

"I did not." Eric looked indignant.

"Did too. Shhh." Wes grinned confidently as they heard footsteps from inside coming to answer the doorbell. "Just watch the master at work."

Ten minutes later they were on their way, having learned once again that Jake kept to himself. This neighbor, like the other, had seen a woman with him and knew she had had a baby, but nothing more about her.

Wes had to give Eric credit, he kept quiet until they reached the sidewalk. "Okay, _master_. What now?"

Wes couldn't help a snicker. "Okay, okay. On to the next one," he said, giving Eric a smile and dropping a hand briefly on his partner's shoulder. Then he sighed and turned to look across the street. "I guess we try over there next."

"Makes sense. Maybe someone got a good look at the girl, at least."

"Man. Why couldn't Jake have been a friendlier guy?" Wes complained as he stepped off the curb. "Why couldn't he have given parties every week and told everybody all his business?"

"Too bad," Eric agreed. "But easy or not, we've still got to find him."

Wes nodded glumly as he raised a hand to knock. "Excuse me, ma'am," he greeted the woman who opened the door a few seconds later as both he and Eric flashed the badges they used as officers of the Silver Guardians. SPD used almost identical badges, and they had become familiar to most citizens of California. "We'd like to ask you a few questions, if we may?"

"Has something happened?" she asked.

"Nothing you need to worry about, ma'am. It's about your neighbor." He pointed back towards Jake's house.

"Oh, him," she said disdainfully. "He kept to himself, mostly." Her eyes lit with interest. "Is he in trouble?"

Wes repeated the story he and Eric had decided on. It had the advantage of being the truth, or part of it. "No, no trouble. His family needs to get in touch with him and we're just trying to locate him."

"Oh." She looked disappointed. Not a Jake fan, apparently. "Well, I don't think he's home now."

"He isn't." Wes slanted a look at Eric. "We already tried his house. Any idea when he's coming back?"

She shrugged. "Who knows? Sometimes I don't see him for days at a time."

Wes sighed inwardly, although he kept a smile firmly on his face. "Have you seen a woman visiting him?" he asked. "Maybe she was living there too?"

"Oh, you mean Sherry."

"Sherry?" Wes tried not to let eagerness show in his voice. "You know her?"

"Well, sort of. She used to work at a health food store I shop at. Nice girl."

"Yes, I'm sure... What's Sherry's last name?"

To his disappointment, the woman shook her head. "I don't know. Her name tag said 'Sherry'; that's all I know. We said hello when we saw each other here, but we didn't really talk much."

"Could you give us the name and address of the store?" Eric asked.

"Sure." She gave them the information and shook her head again. "It's a shame. I don't know what she saw in that Jake Walsh. I don't think he treated her very nicely after she got pregnant."

Eric stepped in smoothly again. "Yes, that's something we'd like to ask about, too. The family didn't even know he had a girlfriend, and certainly not a baby. Could you tell us what happened?"

"Not much to tell. They were dating for a while, and she used to be here a lot - a few times a week. It seemed to be pretty serious. Then bang, they broke up." Her mouth tightened disapprovingly. "I guess maybe Jake didn't want the responsibility of a baby. When Sherry started coming around again a couple of months later, she was already showing."

"They got back together?" Wes asked.

"I guess so. They'd see each other off and on while she was expecting. Then things seemed to get better after the baby was born. Cute little thing, a boy. She showed him to me once. Maybe Jake changed his mind when he got to know his son a little. That happens sometimes, you know? Anyway Sherry moved in with him after a while."

"But - she's not there now?"

"No. They seemed to be doing fine - but all of a sudden, bang again. I guess they had a big fight because she moved out, and he threw all the baby's furniture and things out for the garbage."

"When was this?" Eric asked.

"Um... About two weeks ago. Or more like three. Haven't seen Sherry since, and not much of Jake."

"One more thing," Wes said. "How old is the baby now?"

"Must be close to a year. Time flies, doesn't it?"

"It sure does."

"Thank you, ma'am," Eric said, nudging Wes. "If you'll excuse us, we need to get going."

"Glad I could help, officers. I hope you find him. And make him take care of that poor girl and that baby!"

- - -

"Well, there it is," Eric said as he switched off the car engine. They both peered out at the house they had tracked 'Sherry' - Sharon Michelson - down to, with the cooperation of the store where she had worked up until a little over a year ago.

"Let's get started," Wes muttered, and opened his door. Outside, he paused on the sidewalk, watching the house which sat behind a spacious lawn dotted with trees, as Eric joined him.

"Nice place," Eric said.

"Yeah." Wes shook his head. "I guess now we know why Jake started acting funny a year or two ago. Must have been when he found out Sherry was pregnant."

"He couldn't take Sky being different. What if it was his own kid who might be a freak?" Eric's voice was soft and quiet. "He knew his DNA was affected by the accident, just like Nick's. After the way he acted at the idea of having children that aren't 'normal', I'm surprised he even took the chance of getting anyone pregnant."

Wes smiled as they started for the walkway leading to the front door. "You don't plan on these things sometimes."

"He could have gotten a vasectomy."

"I guess he's not that smart, or he doesn't like the idea of knives near his equipment. Anyway, Sherry got pregnant and apparently he didn't take it very well. But they kept on seeing each other. Maybe he cared about her enough to try to work things out."

Eric nodded. "And after the baby came, he let them move in."

"But then - something happened a few weeks ago?" Wes caught his partner's eye as he raised a hand to ring the bell. "Maybe the baby started doing something unusual?"

"That's what we're here to find out. If this one is like Sky, Bridge, and Syd..."

Eric's voice trailed into silence as the door opened to reveal a petite middle-aged woman with brown hair, her smile wobbling and fading as she took in their uniforms, then reviving with an obvious effort. "May I help you?" she said faintly.

"Mrs. Michelson?" Wes asked.

"Yes, I'm Donna Michelson." She looked apprehensive.

"Good." Wes hesitated. '_We're looking for your daughter and her illegitimate baby by a man with mutated DNA'_ didn't seem like the right way to approach it. "Uh - we understand your daughter, Sharon, knows a man named Jake Walsh," he said.

"Well, yes, she used to. Why, has he done something?" Now she looked almost hopeful. Another person who didn't much care for Jake.

"No. I mean, we don't know. We're trying to locate him, and we were told your daughter was - er - involved with him."

"Involved. I guess you could call it that."

Eric gave him an impatient glance and cut in. "We were also told your daughter and Mr. Walsh have a baby."

"I don't see what that has to do with finding him."

"Do you know where Sharon is?" Wes asked.

Mrs. Michelson's chin came up with protective defiance. "What do you want with her?"

"We want to make sure she's doing all right," Eric said. "Mr. Walsh used to work for Bio-Lab, so we feel responsible for whatever he's done. If he has a baby he's not taking care of financially, maybe we can help out."

Wes almost smiled. It was a clever ploy; hinting at an offer of money in hopes of information. Unfortunately, it didn't work.

"We're taking care of our daughter, and her baby, just fine," Mrs. Michelson said with an insincere smile. We don't need help from Jake, and with no offense, we don't need help from you."

"Understood," Wes said soothingly. "But we'd still like to talk to Sharon. We need to find Jake because of a family situation - I understand his father isn't in good health, and both his parents are very worried about him."

The appeal to sympathy worked where the one to greed hadn't. Wes gave Eric a quick but triumphant glance as Mrs. Michelson hesitated, clenched her hands together, and finally nodded. "All right. Come on in, and I'll see if she's up to it."

"Thank you." Wes stepped inside.

- - -

Sherry Michelson turned out to be a blonder version of her mother: petite, pretty, fragile-looking, and nervous. Maybe most of the nerves were due to finding herself being interviewed by two uniformed Silver Guardians in the living room of her parents' house, but Wes got a feeling of shyness and perhaps even timidity from her. He found himself wondering if that was what had appealed to Jake - a woman who he thought would never challenge him.

But timid or not, she was hiding something; he was sure of it within five minutes. And she didn't intend to reveal it anytime soon.

"Do you have any idea why Jake would have stopped going to work?" he asked her.

"No. I don't know what he did after I moved back here."

"Why _did_ you move out? An argument?"

"We had a discussion."

"What was it about?"

Sherry shrugged. "Nothing."

Wes put on his best sympathetic smile. "I understand many couples with a new baby have problems adjusting. Was that it? The baby?"

An even more guarded look came over her face, and she crossed her arms, hugging herself with shoulders slightly hunched. "My baby is fine. We just argued about - you know, the same stuff everyone does."

"Maybe there's some way we could help. If we can locate Jake, we could talk to him." He tried to catch her eye but she avoided looking at him. "Unless he did something... Did he hurt you or the baby?"

"No." Sharon shook her head. "Nothing like that."

"Then help us find him and we'll talk to him."

"Honey, maybe they could help if you tell them what happened," Mrs. Michelson said, wrapping a supportive arm around her daughter's shoulders.

"Sorry, but nothing happened. I don't know anything about what Jake's doing now."

"You were living with the guy," Eric said, his voice just on the edge of harshness. "You must have some idea of what his problem is."

"No, I don't."

"You had a fight that was bad enough for you to move out and leave the father of your baby. That's not just 'the same stuff as everyone else'."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Was it the baby? Did he do something? Did Jake get angry? Did he throw you out?"

"No, it wasn't like that!"

"But he threw all the baby stuff out into the street. Why would he do that? What happened? What did you fight about?"

"There wasn't a fight!" Sherry burst out. She hugged herself again and turned her face away.

"Then what was it?" Wes asked gently.

"I suppose - I suppose Jake's not ready to be a father," Mrs. Michelson said when Sherry didn't answer.

"Yes." Sherry looked at them again, her expression challenging despite the hint of tears in her eyes. "He's not ready. And that's all. Nothing happened. So leave us alone." With the quick flash of a glare, she whirled and left the room.

"Sorry if we upset her," Wes said as the rapid sound of her footsteps faded.

"Oh, don't apologize," Mrs. Michelson said in a resigned tone. "I was actually hoping she'd talk to you. Sherry's father and I have been trying for weeks to get her to tell us what happened."

"So you don't know either?"

"No." She took a few steps to the couch and sat with a sigh. "Sherry and Jake had some problems when she got pregnant. It wasn't planned and - well, I think Jake wanted her to get an abortion, and she refused. They broke up - got back together - broke up again. Things got better after the baby was born, and she moved in with him. Everything seemed to finally be all right." She gave a short laugh. "I was even hoping they'd get married. Then, almost three weeks ago, Sherry showed up at the door, half hysterical, with the baby and her things. Ever since, she's not the same."

"Not the same? How?"

Mrs. Michelson gestured vaguely. "She creeps around the house like she's afraid. Won't go out. Spends time with the baby but sometimes she looks at him like - like she's afraid of _him_, too."

"Ma'am - is anything wrong with the baby?" Eric asked. "Anything - strange that you've noticed?"

"No. He's healthy." She smiled wanly. "He's the one bright spot in all of this."

"Could we see him?" Wes asked.

- - -

The room they were using as a nursery was obviously a guest room hastily converted for the purpose. There was a crib, a scattering of toys, and various items of baby equipment, but also a rollaway bed and a desk. Wes followed Mrs. Michelson in and he and Eric looked into the crib to see a very normal-looking child in a blue and white outfit, sleeping peacefully.

"Isn't he beautiful?" Mrs. Michelson reached down to brush back a stray wisp of light brown hair, a soft smile on her face.

Wes repressed a grin as Eric rolled his eyes. "Yes," he said. "He looks perfect."

"Our grandchild. No matter what his father is like, he's still family."

"Yes." There didn't seem to be much more to say. Wes took another, longer look, wondering what could have happened to make any father reject his own child like that. "Well, we'd better be going," he said finally.

As they headed back to the front door Wes handed Mrs. Michelson his card. "Call us if you hear from Jake," he said, "or if anything unusual happens."

"Unusual? Like what?"

Eric answered her. "He means if you need any help with the baby. If anything goes wrong, call us."

Mrs. Michelson looked confused. "Well, thank you, but I'm sure we'll be fine."

"I'm sure you will," Wes said, holding out his hand. "Good night, and thanks."

"No problem. Good luck."

"By the way - we never asked what the baby's name is."

She smiled faintly. "Sherry gave him Jake's middle name. Samuel. But we all call him Sam."

- - -

TBC...


	23. Legacy part 4 'Parents'

Wes, Eric, and all other characters from Power Rangers belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.  
Anyone you don't recognize is mine.

Rated T: language, violence, sexual content including m/m sexual relationships.

**A/N:** This is a response to the Power Rangers Slash Write 22 challenge, a slash-oriented romance theme challenge. A link to the challenge site on LiveJournal is in my profile.

Reviews are always appreciated.

**Turns in the Road**

* * *

Legacy, part 4

- - -

Wes sighed as they looked out the car window at the door of another bar. "Man. I can remember when I liked going to bars."

"Me too. But I don't think we hung out at the same kind of establishments." Eric's voice from beside him was amused.

"No, we didn't. Not back then, anyway." Wes turned to face him with a smile. "Now if these were gay bars, things might be a little more interesting. Maybe after we find Jake we can check out the local nightlife."

"Yeah." Eric leaned in and pressed his lips to Wes's quickly, murmuring, "As long as you remember you came with _me_, of course."

"Of course." Wes glanced out the window again. "Well, let's get going. Maybe we'll get lucky here and someone will know where he is."

After their successful search for Sherry and their visit to the Michelson home, Wes and Eric had checked Jake's house again and then had decided to try canvassing the bars in his neighborhood. As Eric had put it: 'With that many bottles in his garbage, if he's not home he's either passed out somewhere or at a bar. Or both.' So far the search had been only partly successful - there had been a couple of bartenders who recognized their picture of Jake - but no one had been able to tell them where to find him.

At least this place was less noisy than the others. They walked in and looked around at the dark interior, the usual lines of glasses and bottles behind the bar, and the usual booths and tables filled with a twenty- and thirty-something crowd, most in groups talking to friends.

Eric led the way to where the bartender was closing the cash register and showed his badge when the man looked up.

"Silver Guardians? You're kind of out of your jurisdiction, aren't you?" the bartender said.

"We're working with SPD to find this man," Eric said, and held up the picture. "His name's Jake Walsh. His family has reported him missing."

"Him?" The bartender snorted. "I guess they haven't been looking in the right place."

"Have you seen him?" Wes asked.

"Most every night for a couple weeks now." The man jerked his head towards the far end of the bar. "See for yourselves."

Wes turned, and peered through the dim lighting. There was a man sitting there, hard to see in a shadowy spot, separated from anyone else by a couple of empty barstools. It took a moment for Wes to recognize him, and not only due to the ten years that had passed since they had last met. Jake had aged prematurely; his face seemed lined and worn, his eyes sunken. Maybe most of it was the result of a recent drinking binge - but Wes suspected it went deeper, as he caught a look on the other man's face that he could only describe as - hollow. Something had happened to Jake Walsh, Wes was sure of it. Something bad.

Eric was already moving in that direction, and Wes caught up as he stopped and stood, arms crossed, waiting. It took a few seconds before Jake reacted and raised bleary eyes to them.

"Oh, it's you." He didn't seem particularly surprised, or maybe he was too drunk to feel much of anything.

"Yeah, it's us." Eric frowned and reached for his arm. "Come on."

"Where?"

"Your house. Where we're going to sober you up and then have a little talk."

"Don't wanna go home."

"Tough." Eric took a firmer grip on Jake's arm despite his attempt to pull away.

"Better do what he says," Wes said more mildly as he took the other arm. "After we spent all day looking for you, my partner's not in a good mood. And when he's not in a good mood, you really don't want to irritate him."

"So he's the bad cop. And I guess you're the good cop." Jake climbed to his feet, more or less under his own power, as Eric narrowed his eyes. "All right, all right. I'm coming. Got my car outside; I'll meetcha there."

"You've _got_ to be kidding," Eric growled.

- - -

It was a mostly quiet ride back to Jake's house, if you didn't count the grumbling from the back seat and Eric's occasional irritated sighs and scowls in that direction. Finally Wes parked in the driveway and all three of them climbed out. Or it might be more accurate to say Jake staggered out. Wes and Eric followed him to his front door and waited while he fumbled with his keys and got it open. Eric moved forward and caught the door as Jake tried to slam it in their faces.

"I won't be requiring your _assistance_ any further tonight," Jake said, undermining an attempt at dignity by swaying unsteadily.

"We're coming in," Eric said.

"No, you're not."

"Yes, we are."

"My house. You can't just bust in here-"

"Yes, we can." Eric shoved him aside and walked in, silencing any further protests with a particularly fierce glare. Trying not to ruin the effect by laughing, Wes followed him and closed the door.

"Screw you." Jake headed in the direction of the kitchen.

"Where do you think you're going?" Eric demanded.

"To get a drink."

"Oh, no you're not."

When Wes got to the kitchen doorway, Eric was forcibly removing a half-full bottle of Scotch from Jake's hand. Jake growled and grabbed at it. Eric pushed him away. Jake swung a punch. Eric blocked it. Jake grabbed up a dirty frying pan from the sink and tried to hit him with it. Eric, who had put the bottle down, grabbed his wrist, yanked the pan out of his grip and dropped it back in the sink, and a moment later had Jake's arm twisted behind his back.

Wes had watched without comment. As Eric held onto his struggling, cursing, but helpless prisoner, he crossed the room and pulled out a chair at the small breakfast table, and then helped shove Jake into it and keep him there.

Angry, panting, but seeming partially sobered, Jake glared up at them. "What the hell do you want from me?" he demanded.

"A few answers," Wes said. "Like why you aren't answering your phone when your family calls."

"My family." Jake sneered. "I guess my self-righteous big sister sicced you on me."

"If you mean she's worried about you because you stopped going to work and no one can get in touch with you, yes. Your parents are worried too. I understand your father's not well, and I'm sure this isn't good for him."

Jake's expression became only slightly less sullen. "Yeah, whatever. Now you can leave and tell all of them I'm doing just great."

"I dunno. You don't look so hot to me," Eric commented dryly.

"Something's happened to you," Wes said. "Why stop going to work? Why hide from everyone, and why the drinking?"

"None of your business."

"Is it Sherry?"

That got a quick, sharp look. "How do you know about her?"

Eric smiled and crossed his arms. "We're Silver Guardians, remember. We know lots of things."

"Yeah, right. Well, you're wrong. Got nothing to do with Sherry."

"Is it the baby, then?" Wes asked.

This time the look Jake shot at them was bright, hot, angry - and haunted. "Baby. The baby." His face twisted. "That damn _baby_. Damn Kat Manx and her damn experiments. It's all _her_ fault!"

Wes leaned in and lowered his voice. "What happened?" he asked gently.

"Oh, _nothing_. Nothing at all."

"Tell us. Maybe we can help."

Jake stared up at them for a few seconds, his face pinched and pale, before he began to laugh - not with humor but a sort of barking laughter that looked like it hurt. "Help?" he finally choked. "Oh, I forgot. You Rangers can fix anything, can't you? But not this time. No, sorry, not this time."

"Tell us anyway." Eric looked genuinely interested now. "What could that little kid have done to make you climb into a bottle like this?"

"He's not a kid. He's a monster."

The statement was flat and unemotional, and shocking enough to make Wes exchange a startled glance with Eric. "A monster?" he asked. "You mean he has some kind of power, like Sky?"

"Not like Sky." Jake looked up, a twisted smile on his face. "Figures, huh? Sky can make his little force fields. Bridge Carson can sense things. Syd Drew can turn herself into rock or metal or whatever she touches. They're all nothing compared to _my son_. I called Sky a freak - but I was wrong. I had no idea what a freak _is_."

"What did he do?"

"What did he do..." Jake scrubbed a hand over his face, his shoulders slumping. "Dammit. After the experiment, after Sky and Bridge were born, I never intended to have kids. I _knew_ they might be - different, might have something wrong with them. I thought we were being so careful... but Sherry got pregnant anyway. I wanted her to get rid of it. She wouldn't do it. We argued, we fought about it, I even told her the truth, but nothing would change her mind."

"That's when you broke up with her?"

"Yeah, we broke up, for a while. But - but we started seeing each other again. I thought maybe it would be okay this time, and the baby would be normal. I thought maybe I was making a big deal over nothing. Even if the kid had some kind of ability, like Sky, I thought I could handle it this time. It would be worth it, you see?" He raised eyes that had brightened with a gleam of tears. "The thing is - I loved her, and I wanted her back."

"I understand," Wes said softly.

"So then the baby came. Sam. He was beautiful, and healthy, and he acted normal. I kept waiting for something to happen, but every day it seemed more and more like he was just an ordinary baby. After a few months Sherry moved in here. We started to be like a regular family. I thought - I thought everything was going to be all right. We were happy. For a while."

"And then?" Wes prompted after Jake trailed to a stop. "What happened?"

"It started when he was about nine months. It wasn't much at first. Things in his room wouldn't be where we had left them. Once we came in and found him crawling on the floor, when we _knew_ we'd put him in his crib. Just little things, things not being where they were supposed to be and showing up somewhere else, but we always assumed we'd just forgotten... or something. Maybe we didn't want to know the truth.

"Then - one day - there was this big teddy bear Sherry had since she was a kid, and we kept it on a dresser in Sam's room. I walked in and found it in his crib. The thing was old and dirty and had loose buttons and stuffing coming out - I took it away and put it back where it was supposed to be. When I went back an hour later - he had it again. I took it away and started to put it in the closet. And..." Jake raised his hands, as if holding a large and invisible teddy bear. "There was this sort of blur around it. And it was gone. Vanished right out of my hands. I turned around, and it was in the crib, and Sam was smiling at me."

"He could - move things around? Make them disappear and reappear somewhere else?"

"The proper term is teleportation. Yes, he could move things around. And that was just the beginning." Jake sighed heavily. "It got worse over the next couple of months. If he wanted something, it would materialize where he could get at it. If he didn't want something - it would disappear and show up across the room. If he really didn't want something - it would appear in midair and fall. He broke a lot of dishes and glasses that way. I think he thought it was funny."

"Well..." Wes said, "I can see that would be a pretty strange thing to live with."

"Strange." Jake looked up. He laughed again, this time with harsh humor. "You have absolutely no idea."

"So is that it?" Eric asked. "The kid did a few magic tricks and you freaked?"

Jake shook his head, still smiling, but with something painful under the expression. "You'll be surprised to know that I did not freak at that point. This was my child. It was a big shock to find out he was different after all, but I thought we could handle it. All we had to do was train him not to teleport things, just like you teach a baby anything else. Yeah." He chuckled again, his voice sarcastic. "All we had to do was _train_ him."

"I guess that didn't go very well," Wes said.

"No. No, it didn't." Jake's smile was hanging on, but looking very strained. "We started to tell him 'no' every time he did it. That didn't help; he'd either just ignore us or wait until we turned our backs. We rewarded him for not doing it. I guess he didn't understand. We yelled at him. We put things where he couldn't see them. Nothing made a difference."

Jake gave a shuddering sigh. "Then one morning about three weeks ago, we were having breakfast. I was eating my eggs and toast. Sam decided he didn't like his food so Sherry took a spoon and started to feed him. The spoon disappeared and fell on the counter across the room. Sherry said, 'No!' and tried again. The same thing happened, except this time the plate of food popped across the room too and splattered all over the wall.

"Sherry wouldn't give up. She said we had to be firm. She got more food, and took another spoon, and tried to force it into him. The spoon disappeared. She yelled 'No!' again and slapped his hand. And - and the next thing I know, the coffeepot appeared a couple of feet over her head. It hit her pretty hard, and the hot coffee spilled - she screamed and started crying - I lost it. I jumped up and grabbed Sam by the arm and yanked him up and started spanking him - hard - and he was screaming too - and then - then all hell broke loose.

"It was like everything in the kitchen started popping into the air - things were falling on us - Sherry disappeared and appeared again across the room - I didn't even _know_ he could do that to people - I hit Sam again, trying to make him stop - and then there was a sort of blink, and I was outside, in midair, and falling."

Jake hunched his shoulders and looked up at them, his eyes stark. "Sam teleported me outside, above the roof. I fell probably ten feet, hit the edge, and rolled off. If I hadn't broken my fall with a tree branch and landed in the bushes I could have been killed. And I was luckier than the microwave." He gestured up at the box-like metal object sticking out of the roof that they had noticed earlier, which Wes now realized was one end of a microwave oven. "That could have been Sherry or me, teleported inside a wall or something." He shuddered.

"So that's when you freaked," Eric said quietly.

"Yes. For the first time I realized just how dangerous Sam's power is. He could have killed both of us with just a thought. He almost did kill me."

"He's just a baby," Wes said. "He didn't know what he was doing."

"And that only makes it worse. He doesn't know what he's doing. He'll do it again, and next time..." The emotion seemed to have drained out of Jake, leaving only a flat and resigned tone. "I couldn't even look at Sam after that. I was afraid to be in the same room as him. I said things - blamed Sherry for not getting an abortion when she had the chance - she packed up and left the same day. Then I threw out all of Sam's stuff, like that could make me forget he existed. It didn't work, so I tried drinking. That didn't work either."

Jake sighed and went on after a moment. "What are the odds that he'll kill someone before he's old enough to know better? And what is that kind of power going to do to his mind? No one can punish him, or make him do anything he doesn't want to do. No one can control him, when he can just make them go away." His voice lowered into a near whisper as his unseeing gaze sank to the stained floor. "Power corrupts... and power like that... if it gets stronger when he gets older... What kind of monster will he turn into? How much destruction will he cause? How many people might die because of my son?"

Wes exchanged another look with Eric, and saw him shrug slightly. He couldn't think of any answers himself at the moment. Maybe there were no good answers - but what Jake was doing to himself wasn't helping, that was certain.

"Come on, you need some sleep," Wes said, reaching a hand to take Jake's arm.

Together, they got him to his feet again and steered him into the bedroom, where he collapsed onto the bed and stared blankly up at the ceiling. With a sigh, Eric pulled off Jake's shoes while Wes maneuvered him out of his jacket. Then they stood back.

"We'll come back tomorrow when you're feeling better," Wes said. "We can talk more about it then."

"In the meantime," Eric said, "why don't you stop feeling sorry for yourself for a change and start thinking about someone else, like your family?"

"Like it or not, you've got responsibilities," Wes said. "Think about it."

"Responsibilities." Jake's voice was calm and quiet. "Yes, you're right. I have a responsibility."

- - -

They were outside and in the car, heading back to their hotel, before Wes spoke again. "Do you think he's right?" he asked.

"That the kid's a monster?" Eric said.

"Well - that Sam's dangerous."

"Hell, yeah. Anyone with a power like that... He's too young to know what to do with it. And Jake's right about something else - if his power gets stronger as he gets older, we could all be in trouble."

Wes frowned into the darkness outside the car. "What can we do about him?"

"Try to make sure he grows up to be a good guy. And I'm starting to think keeping Jake away from him might be a good start."

"Yeah. He's been with the Michelsons for weeks and he hasn't done anything. Maybe it won't be a problem. Maybe he won't do it any more."

"If he _can_ do it, he _will_. Human nature." Eric dropped a hand from the wheel and took Wes's, his fingers gripping firmly for a moment. "We need some sleep ourselves. Maybe things will look better in the morning."

"I hope so."

- - -

TBC...


	24. Legacy part 5 'Children'

Wes, Eric, and all other characters from Power Rangers belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.  
Anyone you don't recognize is mine. 

Rated T: language, violence, sexual content including m/m sexual relationships.

**A/N:** This is a response to the Power Rangers Slash Write 22 challenge, a slash-oriented romance theme challenge. A link to the challenge site on LiveJournal is in my profile.

Reviews are always appreciated.

**Turns in the Road**

* * *

Legacy, part 5

- - -

"Not bad for an old guy, huh?" Wes asked, grinning, as he rolled onto his back and sprawled out, enjoying the extra space on their king-sized hotel bed.

Eric was smiling when Wes turned his head to look. "I dunno. You're slowing down a little."

"Me? You're the one who was slow. Reaaaal slow."

"I thought you like it like that."

"Oh, I most definitely do." Wes rose onto one elbow, leaned over to kiss Eric thoroughly, and sat up.

"You're sure full of energy," Eric grumbled, and closed his eyes.

"Aw, did I wear you out last night?"

"No, but you did this morning." Eric turned onto his side and curled up. "I'll just take a nap while you shower."

Wes chuckled, paused for a moment to appreciate the sight of his partner lying naked amid a tumble of sheets, a few stray beams of early morning sun through the curtains casting a soft light over tan skin. Eric had changed little over the years. There might be a touch of gray in that black hair and perhaps a few faint lines of age beginning to appear in his face - but to Wes's eyes he still looked as good as ever.

In the bathroom, Wes started the shower and stopped again to assess his own face and body in the full-length mirror. Not bad. Not bad at all for almost forty, and he'd just finished proving he could still hold his own in bed. Still, maybe a little more work on the abs, and maybe lose five pounds... Easier said than done, and getting harder every day. He made a face at himself before stepping under the hot water.

Fifteen minutes later he was ordering breakfast from room service while Eric took his turn in the shower, and half an hour after that they were digging into eggs, rolls, cereal, and fruit. A good meal, and no cooking or dishes to wash. Wes decided they had to do this more often, hopefully next time on vacation. Neither of them brought up the unpleasant topic of Jake until they were finishing up and relaxing with the last few sips of their coffee.

"So - any ideas?" Wes said finally.

As he had expected, Eric knew exactly what he was talking about. "Not any bright ones. Maybe we should just leave things alone. Sherry and Sam are probably better off with her parents."

"And Sam himself?"

"I dunno. We can keep an eye on them. Step in if anything bad happens."

Wes frowned. "I'm not sure I like that idea. 'Something bad' could mean somebody getting killed."

"So - what do you suggest? Lock the kid up?"

"No, of course not. But - if anyone knows what to do, it's Doggie Cruger. I think we should talk to him."

Eric raised a brow and nodded. "Yeah... and it was Kat Manx's experiment that caused this. SPD deals with aliens who have some pretty strange abilities; they can deal with this, too. But - you know they might end up locking him up themselves."

"Still, we have to do _something_." Wes sat up as he heard the ring of his cellphone. "Hold on, maybe that's Dad."

But it wasn't. A woman's voice greeted him with an undertone of worry. _"Commander Collins? Good morning, this is Donna Michelson."_

"Mrs. Michelson." Wes caught Eric's eye. "Hello. Is something wrong?"

_"Well, not exactly. I think. But you said to call if we heard from Jake."_

"Actually, we caught up to him last night. Are you saying he's been in touch with you since then?"

_"Yes, he called this morning, and spoke to Sherry."_

"Really. That's... interesting." Wes frowned. "Do you know what he said to her?"

_"Whatever it was, he persuaded her to go back to him. With the baby."_

"He did?"

_"Yes. She's on her way over there now. I tried to get her to wait, to give it some time, but she wouldn't listen. My daughter can be very stubborn."_

"I see." Wes's mind ticked back to Jake the way he had been the night before. Why the sudden change of heart? Something felt wrong here. "It does seem pretty sudden. Well, thanks for letting me know, and please call if anything else happens." Wes was still frowning as he hung up.

"What was that all about?" Eric asked.

"Jake called Sherry, and asked her to come back. With Sam. She's already on her way."

"After the stuff he was saying last night? When he can't stand to be in the same room with the kid?"

"Maybe he changed his mind."

Eric gave him a skeptical look. "You don't believe that any more than I do."

"No, I don't. In fact, I think we should get over there and have another little talk with him."

Eric stood up. "Then what are we waiting for?"

- - -

Wes was only slightly surprised when it was Sherry who answered their knock at Jake's door, wearing the same nervous yet defiant expression as the day before. They saw Jake beside her, whispering something into her ear, before she stepped outside and closed the door behind her.

"Jake told me about last night," she said. "You found him, and he's fine, so now you can go home."

"Not quite yet," Eric said. "We want to talk to him."

"What about?"

"Last night Jake didn't sound like he wanted you and Sam to come back here," Wes said bluntly. "Now all of a sudden you're here. What happened?"

She hunched a shoulder and frowned. "I guess talking to you changed his mind. Anyway, we're back now, and everything's fine. So - so goodbye, and thanks for your concern." She turned and started to reach for the doorknob.

"We still have a few questions for Jake," Eric said.

"Yeah?" Sherry stared at them challengingly. "What kind of questions?"

"Why he changed his mind. We know about Sam, and we want to know what Jake intends to do about him."

"We don't need to do anything about Sam!" Her eyes flared with sudden, surprising anger. "Jake told me you tracked him down looking for Sam! And he told me what you want to do! You want to take our baby away from us so SPD can lock him up!"

"What?" Wes said, startled as much by the similarity to his earlier conversation with Eric as by the unexpectedness of the accusation. "We never-"

"I don't care if you think Sam is dangerous. Jake and I are never going to let you get our baby and I'm not even letting you inside. So just go away." She stepped in front of the door, blocking it.

"We didn't come here looking for Sam. We didn't even know about him until yesterday. Your boyfriend's a liar," Eric said, his eyes narrowing.

"I don't think so."

"And a coward. I notice he sent you out to talk to us while he's hiding inside."

"Well..." A hint of uncertainty crossed her face before her chin came up. "Please - just leave us alone." She reached for the door again.

Wes caught Eric's eye and shrugged slightly. Nothing much they could do; they had no legal reason to force their way into the house, and Jake was unlikely to be any more cooperative than Sherry. He stepped back towards the street, reaching to take Eric's arm and tug him along. "We might as well go," he said. "We can check back with them later, and tell SPD to keep an eye-"

"Wait." Eric was looking back at Sherry. "Something's wrong."

Sherry was still at the door, twisting the doorknob and pushing, with no result. As they watched, she thumped on the wood with her fist, and then rang the bell. When there was no answer, she called, "Jake, the door's locked!"

Wes glanced at Eric again, some deep intuition telling him that something was indeed drastically wrong. Both of them stepped quickly back to the door, Eric firmly moving Sherry aside despite her protests while Wes banged on the door and shouted, "Jake! Open up!"

Sherry struggled free of Eric and tried to push him away. "He won't open it while you're here!" she cried. "Just go away!"

"We're not leaving until we make sure," Wes said, holding his ground, and then looked up sharply as the shrill sound of an alarm came from inside. "What's that?"

"Sounds like a smoke detector," Eric said. He took a few running steps out onto the lawn and looked back at the house.

Sherry had redoubled her efforts at the door, pounding on it and shouting. Wes heard Eric call him and moved to join him. He followed Eric's pointing finger to see a wisp of smoke trailing up from the roof. It thickened as he stared.

Both of them charged at the door again, forcibly pushing Sherry out of the way. Wes kicked at it, with no effect. He stood back as Eric gave it a harder kick, the wood shuddering this time but refusing to give. Wes looked around; the windows were barred and too small. There was no time to get in the back door the way they had the first time. He could see Eric reach the same conclusion, and with a silent nod to each other they backed up and stood side by side, raising their arms.

"Time for Time Force!"

"Quantum Power!"

The touch of a button and two shouts, twin flashes of energy, and they were the Red Time Force Ranger and the Quantum Ranger again. It had been years, but the sensation, with its flood of energy and power, was as familiar to Wes as if it had been yesterday. No time to enjoy it, though - they ran forward again, this time a combined kick smashing the door into flying splinters.

Inside, they paused to look around. The air was hazy with smoke, the alarm now loud and sharp. Sherry ran between them and stopped abruptly, gasping as a form stepped from the smoky interior. Jake. But not the sad and confused Jake from last night; this time his expression was firm and resolved. And he held a gun in one hand, pointed in the direction of all three of them.

"Just stay right there," he said. "The gun probably won't hurt you two much, but you wouldn't want Sherry to get hit, would you?"

"Jake?" Sherry said. "What are you doing?"

"What I should have done three weeks ago. I'm sorry; I didn't want you to be in danger. Didn't want you to see this. Just turn around and go outside again and you'll be safe."

"Just - just give me Sam, and I'll go."

"You know I can't do that. Sam is what this is all about."

"What do you mean?" Sherry's voice was beginning to quiver and crack with fear.

Jake sounded rational by contrast, reasonable, solemn - and utterly determined. "Sam should never have been born. You've seen what he can do - teleport anything, anywhere - have you really thought about how much power that gives him? Anything - and anyone - he doesn't like, gone just like that-" he snapped his fingers, "into the ocean, into the ground, into space, wherever. Anything he wants, he can just take. Who's going to stop him?"

"No! My child is not evil!"

"Who's going to teach him right from wrong? We tried, and you saw what happened."

"It doesn't have to be like that," Wes said. "With a good home, if his family is careful - and SPD can help, they know how to control people with powers like this."

"Ah yes, SPD. They can take Sam and turn him into a lab rat like Sky or those other two kids."

"Hey!" Eric said. "That's not what they're doing!"

"I know better. And I know it won't work. I'm his father, after all, I should know my own son. If he's anything like me... No." Jake drew himself up. "Like you said last night, I have a responsibility. The responsibility to make sure my son never hurts anyone again."

"That's not what we meant!" Wes cried.

"Doesn't matter." Jake looked up. The smoke was thickening around them, and a red light from behind him, dancing with the flickering of flame, was casting his face into shadows the color of blood. "It will all be over soon, for Sam and for me. I don't want to hurt any of you. Go back outside. I'll stay with my son."

"No! _Sam!_" Sherry darted forward. Jake's gun turned towards her. Wes didn't wait to see if he would shoot her; he leaped - the gun swung back and went off - he felt the stinging impact rock him back on his heels and saw Eric crash into Jake an instant later, knocking him down.

"Wes, you okay?" Eric shouted, twisting to glance up as he tried to pin the struggling man and get the gun away from him.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"I'll take care of Jake and call 911. Get Sherry and Sam out of here!"

"Right!" Wes caught a glimpse of motion at the end of the hallway. Sherry, going either for the bedroom or the spare room they had probably used as a nursery. He ran after her, the crackling of fire beginning to compete with the fading sound of the alarm as he passed doorways and stopped to stick his head inside. Bathroom, empty. A closet. In this smoke he couldn't remember which door was which. He found the bedroom - what looked like a few baby things scattered around, an open suitcase. No one there.

There was another sound - a baby's cry rising over the noise, bringing him back out into the hallway. Another cry, this time a woman in fear or pain. Wes skidded into the last doorway and tried to see through a cloud of smoke lit by the red of flame. It was worse in here; this was probably where Jake had set the fire. Was that them? A hazy form against the far wall, was it a woman clutching a child? He started forward and cried out a warning as a line of fire ran across the floor towards them and ignited a sofa in the corner. More smoke - he had almost reached them - there was an odd, watery blurring of the air in front of him - and the spot where they had stood against the wall was empty.

Wes blinked and shook his head, hesitating. They had been there; he had seen them - hadn't he? But they weren't there now.

One thing was for sure - he had to get out. Wes called, quickly searched the room, and ran back into the hall. He checked the other rooms on his way, and finally dashed into the kitchen. No one. He looked back, panting, at the mass of fire the rest of the house was quickly becoming. The sound of a siren howled from outside.

"Wes!" It was Eric's voice, and Eric himself appeared from the smoke-darkened hallway to grab Wes's arm. "Come on, the whole house is going up!"

"I couldn't find them!"

"We have to get out of here!" Eric's words were punctuated by a crash and a burst of flame that drove them both towards the back door. "The roof's going to come down in another minute! Come _on_!"

He was right; if Sherry and Sam were still inside there was no helping them now. Wes turned, and in frustration as much as fear charged the door and kicked it down, leaping out with Eric right behind him.

- - -

"And that's about it." Wes looked up at Lyn's pale face as they sat in her living room in Newtech City a week later, and then back down at his own hands. "The house burned to the ground. I guess Jake did a good job of setting that fire. We turned him over to the police."

"And he's charged with arson and attempted murder," she said quietly. "Although the murder charge probably won't stick since no one can find Sherry or the baby, and there's only your word that Jake tried to kill Sam."

"Yeah, probably." Wes sighed. "At least no human remains were found in the wreckage."

"You think Sam used his power to teleport them out."

"I'm sure I saw them, and then they were gone." He looked up again. "I spoke to Mrs. Michelson again a couple of times since then. She wouldn't admit that Sherry had gotten in touch with her, but she didn't seem nearly as upset as I would have expected after what happened. Yes, I think Sherry and Sam got out, they're alive, and they're out there somewhere. For some reason she took off instead of contacting us."

"She's afraid," Lyn said. "Jake told her you would take the baby away from her, or SPD would, because of his power. It wasn't completely a lie, was it? It could happen, if Sam becomes a problem."

Wes nodded silently, unable to disagree.

"And Jake's still alive, even if he's in jail. Maybe she's afraid he'll get out someday and try to hurt Sam again. She's confused and frightened and doesn't know who to trust. It doesn't surprise me that she ran."

"I guess. We're still looking. I hope some day we'll find them in time to help." Wes got to his feet. "Well, I'd better get going if I don't want to get back to Silver Hills in the middle of the night."

"I appreciate your coming here to talk to me." Lyn followed him to the door and stood, looking thoughtful, as he put on his jacket and turned back to say goodbye. "I wonder..." she said softly.

"What?"

"What Jake did was terrible, but he thought he was doing the right thing, saving the world from - from what he thinks is a monster. I wonder if in ten years or so we'll wish he had succeeded." Her eyes lifted to his. "That sounds awful, doesn't it? But Sam is a very powerful child - and he's Jake's son. What if he turns out like him, or worse?"

"He's also Sherry's son, and he's your nephew and Sky's cousin." Wes smiled. "Remember, he saved his mother as well as himself in that fire. The kid has good instincts. I have a feeling he'll turn out okay."

"I hope you're right."

_So do I,_ Wes added fervently but silently as he bent to kiss her cheek. _So do I._

- - -

It was late when he opened the door to his and Eric's house in the suburbs of Silver Hills. Late enough that Eric should be home from work by now - but there was no sign of him. Except - Wes was sure they had turned out the lights in the bedroom, yet a soft glow he recognized as their bedside lamp was on now, apparently turned to the dimmest setting. Not like Eric to be in there awake, but maybe he was changing his clothes.

"Eric?" he called.

"Yeah, I'm in here. How'd it go?"

"Not bad. Lyn's a tough lady. She said her parents are upset, of course, but taking it as well as can be expected."

"Good. You okay? How was the trip back?"

Wes shrugged. "Fine. I'm a little tired is all."

"Are you alone?"

"Well, yeah. Why, who were you expecting?"

"Just you."

Wes frowned as his partner still did not appear. "You gone to bed already?" he asked.

"Come on in and find out."

Puzzled, Wes did as he was asked - and stopped short when he reached the bedroom doorway. He stared in surprise and growing amusement, not knowing whether to laugh, and finally asked, "Uh - what is _that_?"

Eric was lounging on the bed, wearing nothing except for a bright, shiny, curly red ribbon tied artistically around a vital body part. He glanced down at it and then back up, with only a sparkle in his eye to contradict his solemn expression. "Wes, after all these years, if you don't know what that is we've got a serious problem."

Wes did laugh this time. "Not _that_, dummy," he said. "What's with the ribbon?"

"It's your birthday in-" Eric glanced at the clock, "just about two hours. Consider this an early present."

"My birthday?" Wes smiled and started to shed his own clothes. "You know, with everything that's been going on, I almost forgot all about it."

"Then it's lucky _I_ didn't forget, isn't it?"

Lucky. That was a good word for it, Wes thought as he tossed his shirt onto a chair and unbuckled his jeans. Eric was not given to romantic gestures and even less to such silly ones as this, but here he was - and Wes knew why, it was to cheer him up after the gloomy events they had been through in Sacramento and also to make his fortieth birthday a little less depressing. And now it didn't seem depressing at all, not when they could celebrate it together. Yes, Wes decided - he was a pretty lucky guy.

"Thanks, Eric. I can't wait to unwrap it."

"No need." Eric grinned at his puzzled look. "The ribbon's elastic."

Wes was snickering as he climbed onto the bed. "You think of everything."

- - -

TBC...


	25. Graduation Day 'Unspoken'

Wes, Eric, and all other characters from Power Rangers belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.  
Anyone you don't recognize is mine. 

Rated T: language, violence, sexual content including m/m sexual relationships.

**A/N:** This is a response to the Power Rangers Slash Write 22 challenge, a slash-oriented romance theme challenge. A link to the challenge site on LiveJournal is in my profile.

Reviews are always appreciated.

**Turns in the Road**

* * *

Graduation Day

- - -

_"Bridge Carson."_

"Look!" Wes grabbed Eric's arm in excitement as a figure moved in the ranks of new cadets standing at attention in the SPD Academy assembly room and came forward. "There's Bridge!"

"I know, I know." Eric was trying to sound cynical, Wes could tell, but his smile gave him away.

Bridge looked solemn and serious in the SPD uniform he was now entitled to wear, very different from the rather scruffy, occasionally brilliant, and more often very odd boy they had come to know over the years. They watched as Bridge reached the small dais and received his diploma from Commander Doggie Cruger himself, the kid they remembered emerging with the sudden flash of a grin and an awkward duck of his head.

"Man, brings back memories," Wes said with a sigh. "Graduation, your whole life ahead of you, everything about to change, starting to think about a career..." He stopped abruptly and added a moment later. "Umm... sorry."

"For what?" Eric asked. "Just because I never went to college doesn't mean I missed out on the important things. I think I've done okay for myself."

"More than okay." Wes reached to take his hand.

Sitting in the row just behind them as they witnessed the graduation ceremony for SPD's newest cadets, Alan Collins smiled at the sight. How long ago had it been, that night when Wes had said how he hated having to hold Eric's hand under the table? The phrase had stuck in his mind ever since, but now it was no longer true, thanks to years of effort by himself and many others.

But that wasn't the only memory this brought back. He could almost imagine himself in the stadium in Boston where Wes had graduated from college, so full of pride in his son. How long ago now? Close to thirty years. Amazing. Wes had been so young, so wonderfully, painfully young and full of dreams, and Alan had been so full of plans for him.

As with most plans, many of them had gone astray. No one would have imagined Wes ending up with Eric instead of the nice girl from a good family Alan had assumed he would find sooner or later. He had also assumed there would be grandchildren, and could admit - only to himself - that the lack of them was his only remaining regret about his son's orientation. Still, a few of those plans had eventually come true - since Alan's retirement eight years ago Wes had taken over Bio-Lab, with Eric as a full partner. Not exactly what Wes had dreamed of so long ago, but it had been his own choice and he seemed happy with it.

_"Sydney Drew."_

"There's Syd!" Wes exclaimed, and pointed.

"I never would have guessed," Eric said dryly.

"Who'd have thought that skinny little kid would grow up to be so pretty?" Wes asked. Eric grunted noncommittally. "I heard she's done some modeling. Even saw her picture a couple of times."

"Don't tell me you read those stupid teenager magazines."

Wes responded with a grin. "No. The last time I visited, Lyn showed them to me."

Eric's expression was unimpressed. "She's pretty, yeah, but too short to be a model. The only reason she got as far as she did is because her family's loaded."

"Cynic," Wes said.

"It's true."

"I guess it doesn't matter anyway, since she decided to go into SPD."

"Where her family and their money don't mean anything." Eric raised a skeptical eyebrow. "We'll see how she does now."

"You don't think a rich kid can possibly cut it as a Ranger?" There was another grin on Wes's face as he faced his partner.

"Didn't say that." Eric returned the smile. "Besides, none of them may get to be Rangers."

"Sky sure wants to be." Wes's gaze went back to the floor of the assembly room and the ranks of waiting cadets just as the announcer's voice said the name they had all been waiting for.

_"Schuyler Tate."_

They watched his tall form straighten and stride purposefully towards the stage. Sky accepted his diploma with a solemn nod and returned to his place as the role call of students continued. Wes turned his head to glance at Lyn where she sat further down in the rows of parents and relatives, looking every bit as proud as he would expect, her hand clasped in that of the man next to her. She certainly deserved some happiness after Nick's death more than ten years ago, more recently her brother Jake's attempt to murder his own baby son, the disappearance of that baby, Sam, and her own father's death not long after that. Yes, life at this moment must seem pretty good for her, with her son starting his career and her remarriage coming up soon.

The list of names and the parade of Academy graduates finally stopped, followed by a brief rustle of papers before the announcer's voice came again. _"The following cadets have been selected as trainees for the SPD Ranger program, B Squad."_

Wes could feel the tension around him as the soft babble that had broken out in the audience stilled into silence. The cadets whose names were called now would be on the fast track to becoming the second SPD team of Power Rangers, something he knew Sky had his heart set on, and had been working for with an increasing dedication that sometimes impressed Wes as excessive. He glanced at his partner again. Maybe it was only natural, when the kid had a hero father and two 'uncles' who were all Rangers - but he suspected Eric's influence as Sky was growing up, encouraging a natural core of drive and competitiveness, had probably also had a lot to do with it.

_"In alphabetical order: Bridge Carson."_ There was a scattering of applause. _"Sydney Drew."_ It grew louder. And finally, _"Schuyler Tate."_ Wes let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and joined in the applause as Sky came forward again, this time with a grin he couldn't repress, and accepted a few hand-slaps from the cadets around him.

- - -

"Okay, got it. Now, how about a shot of Wes and Eric with Sky, Syd, and Bridge?" Lyn waved a hand at them. "That's great. Now smile!"

After the ceremony a tide of uniformed cadets and happy families had spilled outside onto a wide expanse of lawn and separated into eddies of chatter, hugs, and the inevitable picture-taking. Lyn, along with the Carsons and the Drews, had managed to collect the three new B Squad members for a few group pictures.

"Thanks, guys. Now - just the kids. I shouldn't call you kids anymore, should I?" Lyn held up the camera again. "Get closer together... Sky, Bridge, why don't you put your arms around Syd? Don't stand there looking like you never met each other before."

Rolling his eyes and sighing impatiently, Sky draped an arm over Syd's shoulders as Bridge, on her other side, did the same with a much more pleasant expression.

"Sky, you look like you're being tortured," Lyn complained in a wry voice. The camera clicked just as he plastered a smile on his face.

"Are we done yet?"

"I guess that's enough for now." Lyn lowered the camera as her fiancé - Eddie something, Wes remembered - stepped forward and clapped Sky on the shoulder.

"Congratulations, son," Eddie said warmly. "How's it feel to be chosen for the B Squad?"

Wes saw Sky's eyes darken, and his voice was a little sharper than necessary as he said, "I'm glad I'll have a chance to be a Ranger like my _real_ father."

Lyn's face tightened a little, but her smile was still in place as she took Eddie's arm. "Come on, let's say hello to some of the other families," she said, and led him away with only a cool look back at her son.

"Sky, that wasn't very nice," Syd said, nudging him in the ribs with her elbow.

"What?"

"Eddie's a good guy. You should be happy your mom's getting married again."

Sky scowled. "He's okay, I guess. But they've only known each other for less than a year."

"Your mother's pretty smart. I guess she knows him well enough to be sure," Wes said.

Sky's frown deepened as he shrugged. "Just saying." He took in Wes and Eric with a quick glance and smirked slightly. "Hey, if anyone should be getting married around here, it's you two."

"Us?"

"It's legal in the whole country now. You've been together like forever. So why not?" Sky raised a brow as Wes and Eric only gave each other an uncomfortable glance and then looked away. "Anyway, I'm going to pay my respects to Commander Cruger. Bridge, Syd, you coming?"

"He's not really that much like a dog, is he?" Bridge remarked as he looked in the direction of the tall blue alien under whose command they would all be soon. "I mean, he's got the nose and the eyes, but the ears are wrong. And the scales. And dogs aren't blue, except this stuffed dog I had when I was a kid. Of course it didn't really look like an alien, but-"

"Never mind, I'm better off talking to him alone," Sky muttered, and walked away.

"I wonder where the food is?" Bridge said absently, and wandered off in the opposite direction.

"Men are weird," Syd stated with all the wisdom of her twenty-one years, and headed for her parents and the Carsons, who had moved a short distance away during the picture taking.

"That _was_ kind of a weird comment, huh?" Wes ventured after a moment. "I mean about us getting - you know. I guess Sky was just trying to distract us."

"He did a pretty good job of it, too." Eric seemed to hesitate, and then jammed his hands in his pockets, staring at the ground.

"Well... maybe we should find Dad," Wes said after another pause.

"You go on ahead. I'm going to the can."

Wes knew it was just an excuse, but when Eric got into one of his moods it was best to leave him to it for a while. Still, he couldn't repress a sigh as he made his way between the families scattered over the lawn. Marriage. It was something he knew they should at least talk about sooner or later, now that it was legally possible. Or maybe not. If Eric wanted to do it, he'd bring it up himself eventually. That was one thing Eric was very good at: going after what he wanted. And apparently he didn't want marriage, so there would be no point in even discussing it.

_And what do **I** want?_ Wes asked himself as he spotted his father and waved. Despite all the changes of the past decades, marriage to Eric still seemed like a strange concept, and yet he had to admit that no matter how many times he had firmly put the idea aside for another day, it kept returning - and looking more like something he wanted every time.

- - -

Eric took as long as he could, but beyond a certain point hanging out in a men's room began to look strange. All too soon he was standing outside the SPD building doorway, trying to see if the crowd was thinning out. With any luck he could just stay in the shadows of the trees and wait it out. Social functions like this had always been a chore to him, and then Sky had had to make that stupid remark...

"Might have known I'd find you standing somewhere by yourself."

It was Alan Collins' voice, and Eric turned to find his former employer approaching from deeper in the small clump of trees and shrubbery he had taken refuge in. "Yeah," he replied after a moment. "Got tired of the small talk."

"I understand. As one gets older, one has less and less patience for talking about nothing to people one hardly knows."

"I never had much patience for it to start with," Eric said with a shrug.

"I hear that." Collins smiled and turned to look back out across the lawn.

"Nice ceremony."

"Yes, it was. Sky must be happy to have gotten a spot on B Squad. And he's teamed with Syd and Bridge. Quite a coincidence."

"Yeah, it is." Eric frowned. A little too much of a coincidence, that Cruger would have selected the only three cadets who happened to be the children of Kat Manx's old research team, who had extra powers because of that, and who were already friends. No, the old dog knew what he was doing, or thought he did. Rangers who had their own inborn superhuman abilities on top of what the Ranger suits would give them - it wasn't a bad idea at all.

"Wes said you two would probably be leaving soon," Collins said after a pause. "Too bad we can't go back to Silver Hills with you, but Lina and I are flying to Sacramento for an Alliance function."

The Alliance for Equality, the gay rights group Collins had started and still helped fund. "I thought you got out of that."

"I've handed over management of the organization, yes. But this is a dinner for everyone who helped get the Equal Marriage Act passed. I couldn't turn down the invitation even if I wanted to."

Marriage again. Somehow that simple statement sounded like an accusation to Eric. How much of that was imagination and how much was guilt, he didn't know and didn't feel like figuring out. Why should he feel guilty, anyway? If he didn't want to get married it was nobody's business but his own, and maybe Wes's. And if Wes wanted to get married he would have asked, wouldn't he? But why would Wes want to; there was no advantage in it for him; they were already living together and sharing everything - why would either of them want to?

Still, Collins had done so much for a cause that really wasn't his, and Eric couldn't help wondering... "Does it bother you that Wes and I haven't - you know...?" he asked.

"Haven't what?"

"Well, that we haven't decided to get married after you got it legalized and everything."

"Eric..." Collins' lined face was both understanding and slightly amused. "First, a lot of people besides me were involved with this effort. Second, as I tried to tell Wes years ago, I didn't do all this just for you two. Third and most important - the decision to get married, or not, is a very private thing. I don't expect you and Wes to do it. I don't expect you not to do it. It's entirely up to the two of you."

"But you think we should, don't you?"

"No, I wouldn't say that."

"Then you think we shouldn't? Why not?"

"I didn't say that either."

Eric had the uneasy feeling the older man was laughing at him, which did nothing to take the edge off his increasingly annoyed mood. Unfortunately, Mr. Collins was one of the very few people he hesitated to take his temper out on, even now. "Why should we get married, anyway?" he grumbled irritably. "I mean, I'm fifty years old, for Christ's sake. Wes will be too in a couple of months. We're too old."

"Some people marry late in life. Lina and myself, for instance."

"That's different."

"How?" Collins asked mildly.

"Because - because we don't want to. We're doing just fine the way we are."

"As long as you're both happy, that's the important thing."

"You think Wes isn't happy? Did he say something?"

"No, he hasn't mentioned the subject at all." Collins reached to clasp his shoulder. "But I get the feeling this is something you need to talk about with Wes, not with me. And you'll have your chance soon. Here he comes."

Eric swung around to see the object of his dilemma approaching, along with Commander Cruger and another familiar face - Kat Manx, back from fifteen years off-planet researching advanced weaponry and helping establish additional outposts of SPD. Cruger greeted them with a majestic nod of his large, dog-like head. Eric hardly noticed as he blinked in astonishment at Kat, but not at the furry ears that emerged from her hair or her disconcertingly bright green eyes. "Dr. Manx?" he asked.

"Good to see you again, Commander Myers. It's been quite some time."

"You - uh - haven't changed a bit." He meant it quite literally; the humanoid woman standing before him looked no older than twenty-five, exactly the way she had when they first met about twenty years ago.

Kat smiled, baring the tips of delicately pointed fangs. "My people do not age at the same rate as humans. I'm-" She tilted her head slightly, thinking. "Approximately 147 Earth years old."

"She doesn't look it, does she?" Wes said cheerfully. "Shook me up, too, when I saw her."

"Yeah," Eric said, eyeing her and feeling a distinct twinge of envy as he recalled the last time he had looked in a mirror and seen gray hairs, a middle-aged face, and an aging body.

"We're glad to have Dr. Manx back," Cruger was saying. "Especially now."

"Now?" Collins asked. "Why now?"

"The A Squad Rangers will need her expertise as they prepare to face more formidable enemies, and the new B Squad will need to be trained. They and all the SPD troops must be armed as soon as possible with the best of the weaponry she has been working on for the last several years." Cruger paused as they all stared, and turned his head to look out at the lawn. It was a pretty sight, dappled with sunshine and still dotted with the remaining cadets and their families, the faint sound of happy voices carrying to them on a warm breeze. "Gruumm will make his move soon," Cruger continued softly. "The storm is coming and we must be ready, or all of this - this world of yours and everyone on it - may be lost forever."

There was no good way to answer that. They stood in silence for a few seconds, until Wes stepped to Eric's side and took his hand. "We should head home," he said.

It was only later, after they had said a few subdued goodbyes and walked to the parking lot with Eric's arm over Wes's shoulders, that he found himself thinking about it again. As he sat in their car Eric took a quick look at Wes's profile, serious and unsmiling for once, concentrated on driving - and undoubtedly on the much more important matters they had been reminded of.

No, this was no time to bring up something like marriage. The whole idea was stupid, anyway. Wasn't it?

- - -

TBC...


	26. Premonitions 'Threat'

Wes, Eric, and all other characters from Power Rangers belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.  
Anyone you don't recognize is mine.

Rated T: language, violence, sexual content including m/m sexual relationships.

**A/N:** This is a response to the Power Rangers Slash Write 22 challenge, a slash-oriented romance theme challenge. A link to the challenge site on LiveJournal is in my profile.

Anyone not familiar with Power Rangers SPD may wonder why the Sam and Mirloc storylines in previous chapters seem to wander off into nowhere - actually they wander into SPD the series and do not directly involve Wes and Eric, so are only mentioned in passing here. Not the best story-telling, maybe, so apologies for that.

Reviews are always appreciated.

**Turns in the Road**

* * *

Premonitions

- - -

_Dark. It was dark out here in the steel and concrete canyons of downtown Silver Hills, dark and silent. He shivered in a thin, cool breeze and glanced up at the cold light of a full moon, floating so far overhead. The quiet was heavy with suspense as he crept to a corner and peered around, and then nodded to his partner. They continued the search. For what... he couldn't quite remember. _

_There, something was moving! Two glowing points of light watched them from a form that was only a deeper darkness in the shadows, outlined by a swirl of black. The lights moved, coming at them, and with a deep feeling of dread he realized they were eyes. Eyes he had seen before, somewhere. _

"_Watch out!" _

_But the warning was too late, as something slammed into him, driving out his breath in a gasp as his back hit a solid wall and he fell. The smell of blood filled his nostrils; he raised his head and stretched out a hand, helpless as his partner and lover screamed..._

Eric woke suddenly and tried to move, but his muscles took a second to obey as he opened his eyes to the darkness of his own bedroom. A dimly-glimpsed movement startled him and he struck out with long-trained reflexes.

"Hey! Watch it, it's only me." Wes's voice, and Wes sitting up beside him, an arm still raised to block the punch Eric had aimed in his direction.

"Jesus..." Eric rubbed his face, trying to clear away the haze of sleep. "Sorry. Did I hurt you?"

"Nah. You're going to have to move faster than that to hurt me." Wes's tone was light and there seemed to be a smile on his shadowed face, but Eric thought he sensed something - not wrong, exactly, but off.

"What are you doing awake?" he asked. "What time is it, anyway?"

"Just after three." Wes's distance vision was still good enough to read the clock on their nightstand without glasses or contact lenses. Unfortunately, Eric's was not. "You were muttering something in your sleep," Wes added after a moment.

"Yeah? What?"

"Just... muttering." Wes's voice became teasing. "Why? Were you dreaming about some hot-looking guy? Who was it?"

"Now _you're_ dreaming," Eric grumbled, and rolled away onto his side. "C'mon, let's go back to sleep."

"You're no fun." But Wes spooned up behind him, an arm around Eric's waist, a kiss pressed on his shoulder.

It took longer than he liked for the warmth of Wes's body to dispel the last chilly remnants of a fading dream. For a moment Eric remembered that Wes had never really said what had waked him, and wondered why that seemed significant - but the thought was soon lost in sleep.

- - -

Wes tried to hide a yawn behind his hand, and then tried to turn the gesture into an innocent rub of his chin. Not that most of the Bio-Lab board members seated around the long conference room table noticed or cared - and Eric, of course, saw right through him and gave him a part-mocking, part-amused, part-irritated look.

And now Wes was trying to hide a smile, as the thought came to him of how many of these meetings he had sat through over the years. How many times had he yawned, inwardly or outwardly, while listening to someone drone on about stock values and mergers and product lines and consumer interest? There had been a time when he would show his boredom and not particularly care what anyone thought. Except Dad, of course. Now - now the heedless, carefree young man he had been was gone. He was the one at the head of the table now, and he had actually started to care about stock values, mergers, products, and consumers. Wes frowned slightly, feeling old, and felt Eric's eyes on him again.

No, today it wasn't boredom; the problem was the combination of an interrupted night's sleep and an inability to concentrate on the business at hand. That dream - Wes frowned again. He hadn't been able to fall asleep again for a while, despite Eric's reassuringly living, breathing presence beside him. He had been tempted to tell Eric about it, but that would have just kept both of them awake even longer. No, it had been just a dream, and not worth talking about. Besides, Eric would have just laughed at him for letting a nightmare wake him up.

At last the meeting broke up. Wes stood and stretched, grimacing at the stiffness in his back that sitting for long periods caused him these days. Maybe more time in the gym, or a daily walk - but he already had so little spare time.

Eric had stayed as the room emptied, eying Wes with his old critical expression. "Were we boring you?" he asked.

Wes chuckled. "Yeah, you always bore me. Come on, let's grab some lunch."

It turned into a working meal, as Wes had expected. They both had little spare time during the day, and both preferred to keep their personal life separate from Bio-Lab and not discuss business at home. Lunch together, when they could manage it, gave both of them a chance to catch up on each other's workday concerns. Although they had taken over the running of Bio-Lab as partners some division of labor and responsibility was inevitable, and it had been Wes who became more involved in the business and scientific aspects while Eric had stayed in charge of the Silver Guardians, which had grown to become a major component of the company.

"Got the latest report from SPD," Eric was saying, with the scowl he had been wearing for the last few weeks whenever the topic of their associates in Newtech City came up. "Cruger thinks things are heating up."

"Yeah? Do they need any help?"

Eric's tone was sarcastic. "If they do, we'll probably find out a month later in a status report, just like everything else."

It wasn't news to Wes that Eric was angry with Cruger, Kat Manx, and even with Sky. Wes wasn't too happy with that situation himself lately, to tell the truth. First they had found out a few months ago that a ten-year-old boy named Sam with the power of teleportation had turned up and been informally adopted by SPD - not from anyone directly concerned, but from Lyn Tate who had heard it from Sky. And that wasn't the worst of it. Still, he was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt.

"They're busy, Eric. Maybe it just never occurred to Doggie or Kat to tell us about Sam."

"Busy, huh?" Eric tapped his own chest. "I'm busy, too. So are you. But we both stuck our damn necks out trying to find that kid. And we kept on trying for years, even after his mother went back to her parents last year saying she didn't know where he was. But Cruger can't be bothered to tell us he turned up? And that he joined the team as an adult from the future? Not that I understand _that_ one," he added with a note of disgust. "Damn time travel, anyway. Gives me a headache."

Wes basically agreed about Cruger, but didn't want to say so. "I know Lyn doesn't want Sam - young Sam, anyway - knowing about his father until he's older. I wonder if she ever told Sky that Sam is his cousin."

"Serve him right if she didn't."

"It's not Sky's fault. He didn't know we had any interest in Sam."

"But he knew we had an interest in Mirloc." Eric's mouth tightened and his brows contracted: the only signs of the hurt Wes knew was the real reason for his anger.

"That's not fair. Sky knew very little about his father's death, just like he never knew much about how he and Syd and Bridge got their powers. Cruger-"

"You're right, it's Cruger's fault more than anyone else's. Damn secretive bastard. The Sam thing - fine, whatever. But Mirloc - he _killed Nick_. And I find out he escaped and came back to Earth and that Sky recaptured him from a goddamn monthly _status_ report. I shoulda been there. You too. We had the right to be there, or - or at least someone could have picked up the phone and called us about it."

"Hey, I don't like it either." Wes reached across the table and took Eric's hands - or rather his clenched fists - in his own, and gently tried to pry them open. "But at least Sky was the one who beat Mirloc in the end. He has a better right to avenge Nick's death than either of us."

"Well - yeah, I guess," Eric grumbled, hunching his shoulders in a stiff shrug.

Wes smiled. "Try to relax, honey. Remember your blood pressure."

"Very funny." But Eric's expression softened slightly and he curled his fingers around Wes's in a momentary caress before reaching for his fork and stabbing his potato.

Time for another change of subject, preferably one that got them away from SPD entirely. "Anything new on the Klein armored car robberies?" Wes asked. The Klein case had been of particular concern to Eric, he knew, since the thieves had managed to hijack two extremely valuable loads of precious metals without leaving any useable clues, resulting in considerable embarrassment to the Silver Hills police and the Silver Guardians.

"No. But we've agreed with the Klein management to plant a Guardian on every car from now on, riding shotgun. That way we've got someone on the spot."

"Hm. I don't like the idea of one Guardian trying to take on a whole gang."

Eric made an impatient gesture. "They won't. Their instructions are to escape if possible, resist only if feasible, and mainly - call for backup."

"The hijackers have been able to get away clean before the cops or the Guardians could reach them before. What makes you think we'll catch up to them now?"

Eric smiled grimly. "Because they'll be calling _me_. With the TF Eagle I can get there in minutes."

"You?" Wes frowned.

Eric's expression turned into a glare. "Don't even think about telling me I'm too old to go into action again. The Quantum Ranger still has plenty of fire left."

Wes shook his head and grinned. "Believe me, I know that. I was going to say I want to go too."

"Riding on the Eagle's wing?" Eric looked skeptical. "I dunno, it's not that easy to hang on at speed."

"Now who's calling who 'too old'?"

"Well... If we're together when the call comes, okay."

"Good." Wes took another bite of his hamburger and said around it, "Man, morphing again. Can't wait. I hope the suits'll still fit."

Eric smirked. "Yours won't if you keep stuffing your face like that."

Wes made a face at him and then got back to business. "Who do you have in charge of the operation?"

"I'm planning on promoting Kay Miller and letting her run it."

"Kay?" Steve Miller was their second-in-command of the Guardians, but the organization had grown beyond the abilities of Eric and Steve to run every part of it, and over the last years they had put several lieutenants in place. Steve's daughter Kay had followed in her father's footsteps, joined the Guardians, and become one of its most valuable officers. But if Eric was planning to promote her... "Just be sure she's the best qualified. I mean, it would be great to have a woman lieutenant, not to mention a lesbian, but under the - er - circumstances we could be accused of favoritism. Not to mention nepotism."

Eric's eyes turned hard. "All I care about is having the best person to get the job done, keep our people safe, and protect the city. If anyone wants to complain because we happen to promote a gay woman who happens to be Steve's daughter, they can go straight to-"

"Whoa," Wes interrupted, trying not to laugh. "If you're sure Kay's the right person for the job, I'm happy."

"Okay, then." Eric bit into his sandwich as if attacking it, taking a moment to calm down, and then another moment. He seemed almost hesitant as he continued, "Uh - I guess you heard Kay's getting married?"

"No." Wes looked up, surprised. "I knew she had a girlfriend. They're getting married?"

"Yeah. Next year." Eric seemed to be avoiding his eyes. "They'll probably invite us."

"Great! I love a good wedding." A thought struck Wes. "Do you want to go? Or not?"

"Why wouldn't I want to go?"

"Well, I - I realize you're not a big fan of marriage. And - and of gay marriage."

Eric shrugged and put down the sandwich. "It's okay for some people, I guess."

"Yeah, I think it's great. For Kay and her girlfriend, I mean."

"Yeah. But not for - for other people. Like us. I guess."

Eric poked half-heartedly at the food he had been wolfing a moment ago, still not looking up. Wes hardly noticed as he fought back an unexpectedly sharp pang of disappointment. It wasn't like he hadn't already known Eric didn't want marriage, but to hear the words - it bothered him, enough to make him realize that he had been hoping... But what was the point? _Be happy with what we have, and that's plenty,_ he told himself, and hoisted a smile onto his face.

- - -

As it happened, they were together when the summons came in the form of Kay Miller's voice on Eric's cellphone, breathless but professional. "We're on our way," he said in reply, and snapped the phone shut.

"Who was it?" Wes's voice asked from behind him.

Eric turned. They had been having dinner when the phone rang, and he cast one regretful glance at the uneaten chicken parmesan on his plate. "That was Kay. They need us."

Their eyes met for a moment before Wes smiled. "Just like old times, huh?" he asked softly.

"Like old times."

- - -

Dusk had settled in and turned everything soft and dim as they flew over the highway north of Silver Hills. Eric took another glance at Wes and saw him apparently hanging onto his perch on the wing without difficulty. He allowed himself a moment of annoyance; he could have gone faster if he wasn't afraid of throwing Wes off. No point in thinking about that, though; he returned his attention to searching for any sign of the hijacked armored car. The distress signal the Guardian they had planted was transmitting was close; they must be almost on top of it.

"Look, that's got to be it!" Wes was pointing to a spot just ahead, and Eric saw it too now, the reinforced van pulled into a small thicket off the side of the road. Bringing Wes hadn't been a mistake after all; Eric knew he would probably have missed it.

No time to worry about his less-than-perfect eyesight - as they swooped over the car Eric called, "Now!" and retracted the cockpit cover of the Eagle, following Wes in a leap down to the ground. It was just as exhilarating as always - maybe more since it had been so long - going into battle, feeling the power of the suit, as if the last twenty-five years had been wiped away - if only for a few moments.

Eric took in the situation as he fell towards the ground: two men with hands up, one of them Guardian Jackson, surrounded by three men with guns. Faces turned up to them, pale against the darker ground, expressions of surprise just registering before he and Wes landed in their midst. Beside the car a darker shadow moved - but there was no time for a closer look as they plunged into the fight.

Three guns swiveled to aim at them. Eric chopped at one man's wrist with the side of his hand while throwing a sweeping kick at another, and saw both weapons go flying into the air. Wes had no trouble with the third; he grabbed his opponent's gun arm with one hand and punched him with the other. Eric backhanded one of men he had disarmed while Wes side-kicked the other. And as quickly as that, the three hijackers were lying in a groaning heap.

"Anyone hurt?" Wes asked. The driver and the Guardian both shook their heads.

"Commander, there's another one," Guardian Jackson said urgently. "I couldn't get a good look, but-"

"Get these guys handcuffed and call in," Eric interrupted. "Tell Lieutenant Miller the situation's under control. She should be here with backup in a few minutes. We'll find the other one."

"Yes, sir."

"I don't see anything," Wes muttered as they both took a look around. "The fourth guy must have bolted."

"Let's check the cargo," Eric said, and moved towards the back of the armored car.

"I didn't think this would be so easy," Wes commented as he followed.

"Are you complaining?" Eric reached up to pull the loading doors open.

Beside him, Wes smacked his fist into the palm of his other hand, and Eric could hear the grin in his voice. "I wouldn't mind more of a workout."

"If you're really looking for a challenge, I can promise I'll put up a better fight than my men did."

They both looked up at the unfamiliar voice speaking in an almost casual tone from the dark interior of the car. Eric could see a jumble of crates, some broken open, here and there the gleam of light off bars of metal as his helmet boosted the visibility. The gold, platinum, and other precious metals in this shipment, he realized.

But who had spoken? In the shadows at the back of the compartment, was that something darker moving? Eric blinked uncertainly with a sudden, puzzling sensation of déjà vu. "Who are you?" he called, hoping to locate the voice.

But it seemed to come from everywhere, and nowhere. "I'm your worst nightmare."

Wes snorted. "Not very original, are you?"

Surprisingly, the voice was amused. "Ah, but it fits me better than it does some human in a mask and cape. I really am - Nightmare!"

Something definitely moved this time. Eric tensed as someone stepped from the shadows and stood for a moment, a tall man, long black hair flowing over his shoulders, a silver mask over half his face, his one good eye glaring while maniacal laughter rolled out around them.

"_Ransik?_" Wes gasped.

With a snarl their old enemy launched himself at them, leaping from the car to hit Wes feet first, sending him flying backwards to land hard on his back. Eric shook off the almost paralyzing shock of surprise and jumped forward, trying not to listen to the inner voice reminding him that this man had once beaten him without breaking a sweat, had once beaten Wes and all his Time Force teammates together, so what chance did two middle-aged, out-of-practice Rangers have?

A beam crackled past him and hit the mutant in a small shower of sparks. Jackson, trying to help. Wes was struggling to get up. Eric pivoted and side-kicked, ducked under a wild blow, half-turned and kicked out again. Ransik staggered; maybe he wasn't as strong as before, even though he didn't look any older. Eric drew the Quantum Defender and fired point-blank but Ransik knocked his arm aside at the last moment. Eric swung a punch and felt it connect with a jolt he felt all the way up his arm. Ransik went down but it wasn't enough; with a roar the mutant was up again, and flying at him--

--And Conwing hit him hard, rubbery white tentacles winding around his arms and chest. Eric yelled in shock and fear, felt the Defender drop from his fingers, struggled to free himself and fell to the ground with that leering, inhuman face right above his. He heard a shout and saw a flash and a blur of red. Wes, firing his Chronoblaster and kicking Conwing off and away. With an effort Eric rolled up and grabbed his weapon in suddenly trembling hands.

He saw Wes switch to Chronosabers and converted the Defender to sword mode, desperately wondering whether Freeze Mode would work - if Conwing went giant they were cooked - no Megazord, no Q-Rex, no guarantee the Mega Battle would still work... The two of them circled their opponent warily, with Jackson watching from a short distance, looking shaky but ready to back them up as best he could.

Conwing drew himself up and somehow _in_, his form becoming thinner and darker until he was only a shadow wrapped in the swirl of a black cloak which dissolved into dusky mist. And with the echo of mocking laughter he was gone.

They just stared for a few moments, the only sound their own harsh breathing. Finally Jackson asked, "What the hell was _that_?"

Eric tried to force calm into his voice. "I dunno. But I don't think it was Ransik. Or Conwing."

"Yeah, definitely not Ransik. It was - some kind of illusion," Wes said, his own voice tense and strained. "But that guy - Nightmare, I guess he calls himself - seems to be gone now."

"That's not all that's gone." It was the armored car driver, now standing in the open back doorway of the truck. "I don't know how, but the platinum from our shipment is missing."

- - -

"He teleported the stuff away," Wes said. "And then he left the same way."

The words hung heavily between them in the quiet of their living room. Being home should have been reassuring - but despite the hours that had passed since the fight on the highway Wes was still slightly on edge, almost expecting to see Ransik or Conwing or someone worse (if possible) pop out of thin air to attack them.

"Yeah," Eric said finally. "Which brings us back to - who was he? _What_ was he? A leftover mutant? Or..."

"I don't think so. He's gotta be an alien. They do exist in other places than Newtech City."

"An alien criminal, here in Silver Hills. Great."

"We probably should contact Doggie Cruger," Wes said hesitantly.

"Why?" Eric's eyes narrowed. "They can't spare any of the SPD Rangers, and we don't need their help anyway. The only reason this character got away is because he caught us by surprise. Next time, we'll be ready for him."

Privately, Wes allowed himself a moment of doubt. But - they were both experienced Rangers and had fought tougher enemies than Nightmare was likely to be. And Eric had a point; SPD had their hands full at the moment with Gruumm intensifying his attacks on Newtech City. Besides - stiff and sore as Wes suspected he'd be in the morning, that fight had been the most exciting thing that had happened to him in years. Yeah, next time they'd know what to expect, and they'd come out on top, the same way they always did. But that would be a battle for another day, and there were other kinds of excitement he could think of at the moment.

Wes got to his feet and held a hand down to pull Eric up and into a hug and a lingering kiss. While their sex life had always been good, inevitably over the years they had fallen into routine and maybe even taken each other for granted sometimes - but tonight, after the shared danger, the fight at each other's sides, and with the prospect of more to come, all of the old thrill came flooding back as they touched.

"You know, you looked pretty hot in that suit," Wes murmured when their lips parted.

"Yeah? You weren't so bad yourself." Eric smirked. "We still got it, huh?"

"Sure do."

They kissed again, this time with more passion, letting it last and grow more intense until Eric stepped back, smoky-eyed, and said, "It's time for bed."

Wes grinned. "I hope you took your Viagra."

"Funny. _Very_ funny."

- - -

TBC...


	27. Shootout 'Danger'

Wes, Eric, and all other characters from Power Rangers belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.  
Anyone you don't recognize is mine.

Rated T: language, violence, sexual content including m/m sexual relationships.

**A/N:** This is a response to the Power Rangers Slash Write 22 challenge, a slash-oriented romance theme challenge. A link to the challenge site on LiveJournal is in my profile.

Reviews are always appreciated.

**Turns in the Road**

* * *

Shootout

- - -

"Sir?"

Eric looked up at the sound of the voice to see a young woman in a Silver Guardian's uniform standing in his office doorway, her face professionally blank but her body language saying she was uncertain whether she should have interrupted. Not that he was doing anything, really, just sitting and staring blankly at the pages of the report he was supposed to be reading.

Maybe she hesitated because he looked tired - and he was, after that damn dream had waked him up again last night, and left him restless and troubled with its vague images of destruction and death that he could almost see again every time he closed his eyes. Or maybe he looked preoccupied, which he also was, with Wes and the question that had been revolving endlessly through his mind lately and the decision he knew they needed to make, or at least talk about, a question and decision Kay Miller and her upcoming marriage only served to remind him of.

But none of that had any place here at work, distracting him from his job. "Yes, Lt. Miller," he said. "What is it?"

Kay was as short, dark, and wiry as her father, and proving to be just as good an officer, if a bit overly formal. She advanced a step into the room and stood stiffly, looking straight ahead. "There's a news bulletin from Newtech City, sir. They're under some sort of attack."

That didn't sound like anything new, but if Kay thought it was worth telling him maybe it was worse than usual. "Have they requested backup?"

"Not from us, but apparently SPD has called all officers to duty. The media reports their headquarters is under siege. The Rangers were involved in heavy fighting, but now there's no sign of any of them except Omega."

Eric frowned, feeling a twinge of concern. "That doesn't sound like the usual attacks."

"No, sir. Should I send a squad of Guardians?"

He stood up. "Contact Cruger or someone at SPD first, and find out if they need reinforcements."

"I already tried, sir. No answer."

His concern deepened. "All right. You're in charge; take your squad and go by helicopter."

"Yes, sir!"

He watched her break into a trot as she left. A good officer, yes, and maybe ready to take her father's place when he retired. Speaking of which - Eric paused long enough to call Steve Miller, tell him the situation, and order him to put the rest of the Silver Guardians on alert. That left him free to find Wes and get them both to Newtech City in their own way. Cruger might be a stubborn old alien bastard, but he was getting their help whether he wanted it or not.

- - -

_He crept forward in the dark and the quiet, aware of the buildings stretching up above him. The city he loved, and was sworn to protect, under the shadow of destruction. A glance at the sky showed looming masses of dark clouds crackling with unnatural lightning. Danger... _

_But his partner was at his side, and they would fight until the end, if they had to. Together they reached the corner and peered around blocks of tumbled stone to find - only darkness. Shadows moved, and a pair of glowing eyes stared back. And he knew it was too late as he felt the impact and heard a scream..._

"No!"

It came out in only a choked whisper as Wes jolted awake. He looked around wildly, unsure of where he was until he recognized his father's office. No - no, now it was _his_ office. Wes shook his head. That dream again, this time during the day, at Bio-Lab. He must have dozed off, here at his desk. Lucky there was no one around to have seen him, or to have heard him cry out.

He climbed to his feet and stretched, trying to dispel the lingering unease he felt, and then turned to the windows. Wouldn't hurt to get some light in here. Wes pulled back the drapes, absently resolving to get them replaced with something brighter, and raised the blinds. It was full day out, a reassuringly sunny morning. He stood for a minute or two looking out at the view of downtown Silver Hills. Something caught his eye and he leaned close to the glass, trying to make it out.

The knock at the door barely penetrated his concentration, but Eric's voice pulled his gaze from the city streets. He wasn't surprised to see his partner, or the expression on his face, although Eric's words weren't quite what he expected to hear.

"SPD's under attack," Eric said. "I've sent Kay and her squad, but I think we should go too."

"Not yet." Wes turned back to the window and the view of a crowd of people below fleeing from some unseen danger. "I think we have our own problems."

- - -

This time Eric was first to see, from his vantage point in the Eagle. Wes had opted to take one of the new SG-cycles, motorcycles based on designs from SPD. He said it was as good as the Vectorcycles had been - and Eric suspected he didn't like the idea of hitching another ride.

Eric spoke, letting the suit's communications system transmit his voice to Wes. "I see something ahead, in the next intersection. Bunch of guys in black with white helmets. Krybots, from the pictures we've seen."

"_What are they doing here when Gruumm's attacking in Newtech City?"_ Wes asked.

"Dunno. But as long as they're here, let's show them a good time."

"_At least we know they're robots. We don't have to pull our punches."_

"Yeah. They kinda remind me of the Cyclobots. I'm going in."

"_I'm right behind you."_

It took only another couple of seconds to dive low over the street and land the Eagle. Eric raised the cockpit bubble and stood atop the aircraft for a moment, looking over the scene. There were perhaps a couple dozen of the black-and-white suited drones milling around on the street. He saw random destruction of store fronts, cars with hoods dented and windshields smashed, a few crashed into walls and poles when their drivers had panicked. It looked like the Krybots had simply attacked anything in sight with no real purpose.

The Silver Guardians were arriving too, black SUVs screeching to a stop and dark-uniformed troops piling out. They could probably handle the situation themselves; these Krybots weren't enough to be a serious challenge - was this only meant as a distraction? Was there someone tougher waiting to attack?

But there was no more time to wonder. Wes's cycle was coming fast, and the Krybots near him were moving in. Eric jumped down to meet them as Wes leaped from his vehicle and landed on three of the robots, flattening them and rolling away and back to his feet in a smoothly fluid motion. Eric smiled appreciatively. Wes still had it, all right.

Time to prove he did too - Eric spun into a flying kick, knocking a Krybot back and into its companions. His feet barely touched down before he roundhouse-kicked another, shifted to the other leg and side-kicked. Then it was fists as he went to one knee and punched a robot in the stomach, ducked as another charged and came up to lift it on his shoulder and flip it through the air.

Wes had taken care of most of the Krybots near him - as Eric glanced in that direction he summoned his Chronosaber and whipped it around in a circle, slashing the two that were left. Eric decided it was time to stop doing things the slow way himself and drew the Defender. A couple of quick blasts and he was surrounded by the shattered remains of their robot enemies. The Guardians had done their part too, shooting down the Krybots he and Wes hadn't gotten. The fight was over.

"That was too easy," Wes said.

"You're right," Eric said. "Whoever sent these guys must have known they'd be no match for us."

"Trying to keep us here? So we can't help in Newtech City?"

"Could be." There was movement in a darkened office building doorway, a shadowy figure stepping forward into the sunlight. "And I have a feeling it isn't over yet."

"How perceptive. It's far from over," came a new voice. Eric tightened his grip on the Defender as a man appeared, wearing a black and white bodysuit with an orange helmet and shoulder-pads covered with blocky spikes, a heavy, similarly orange-spiked sword in his hand. No - not a man, as Eric recognized it from the SPD reports he was glad now he had paid such close attention to.

"Orangehead Krybot," Eric muttered to Wes. "Another robot, but a lot tougher and smarter than the regular model." He raised his voice to call to the Guardians surrounding them. "Make sure the area is clear of civilians, set up a perimeter, and take cover!"

Then the two of them took their positions, side by side, Wes with a Chronosaber in each hand, Eric with the Quantum Defender in sword mode. The Krybot strode forward slowly, confidently, and then stopped. It raised one hand, curled it into a fist - and leaped into the air, coming at them so fast they almost had no time to react. Eric blocked as the orange sword swung at him, and felt the impact as it hit the Defender's blade with the clash of metal on metal, driving him back and off-balance. Wes twisted aside but got a glancing kick in the shoulder, enough to spin him to the ground.

Moving with inhuman speed, the Orangehead landed on its feet and turned, rising into a flying kick. Eric jumped to meet it; their booted feet met hard, throwing him back to somersault head over heels. Somehow he managed to land on his feet, but staggered and almost fell. Wes had moved in, blocking the Krybot's sword with one saber and swinging the other under its defenses at its body. The blow connected, and the Krybot dropped to its knees, but instantly sprang back up and was coming at them again.

Wes managed to block the double attack of orange sword at his head and flying kick at his stomach using both sabers. Eric leaped as high and hard as he could, converting the Defender into blaster mode on the way, and twisted in midair to fire down at the Krybot as he passed overhead.

The shot hit, but again the robot seemed to shrug it off and swung its blade to throw an arc of energy at him, catching him in a blaze of lightning-like electricity as he came down. Eric hit the ground hard, bounced, and hit again.

When he fought off the haze that threatened to overcome him and raised his head, Wes was looking weakened but still fighting, fending off a spinning kick. Eric got up to his hands and knees as Wes cried out "V-1!" summoning his V weapon, and aimed the heavy blast cannon as the Krybot attacked again in another airborne leap. Wes's blast caught it in midair, lifted it for a moment on a stream of energy, and then threw it heavily onto its back.

For a moment, Eric thought it was over. But the Krybot climbed to its feet again, picked up the sword it had dropped, and faced them. "Is that the best you can do?" it asked mockingly.

"No," Eric retorted. "Not by a long shot." He raised an arm. "Mega Battle!"

He hadn't been quite sure it would still work, but the old sensation flooded him again - like a second, more intense morph, as the Mega Battle Armor materialized around him, banishing the pain and fatigue he had felt a moment ago. As soon as it was in place, Eric summoned the blade-blasters and fired double-handed - but the Krybot swung its sword underhand and around to send another lightning burst ripping across the ground and through the air at him. They stood in an apparent impasse, the two streams of force meeting and dissolving each other in a blinding fireball.

Eric knew it couldn't last - one or the other weapon would run out of energy. But - a movement caught his eye - Wes pulling himself up straight and calling out, "Battle Fire!" In a bright flare of flame he was wearing the ancient and exotic-appearing armor Eric had only seen on him twice before - and holding a giant golden sword. Wes swung it up, tracing a circle of flame, and sent the fiery energy blazing at the Krybot.

And then it really was over, as the robot seemed to ignite in an explosion that made them shield their eyes, and shattered into a pile of mechanical parts.

Wes broke the silence that followed by falling to his knees, his extra armor disappearing and leaving him in his normal Ranger suit. Eric muttered "Power down" and shed his own armor as he felt the exhaustion of the extra energy it used hit him. Unsteadily he made his way over to Wes.

"Are you okay?" he asked, a hand on Wes's shoulder.

"I'm fine, just need to catch my breath. Forgot how rough that power-up is. It was okay when we were young, but..."

"A lot of things were easier when we were young. Right now I wouldn't mind leaving the Rangering to SPD."

"SPD..." Wes got to his feet. "They still may need help."

"You're right." Eric raised his arm and then hesitated. "Are you up to riding on the Eagle's wing again?"

"I wish that damn thing had more room inside." Wes's voice held a chuckle when he continued, "Maybe I could sit on your lap."

At least if Wes could joke, he must be feeling better. "It's tempting," Eric said, "but maybe a company plane or helicopter would-"

"Oh, don't leave before we have a chance to get reacquainted!"

That metallic voice, followed by shrill laughter - Eric's eyes went wide even before he swung around to stare at a tall form made of gleaming gold. "Frax!" he gasped.

"Frax was destroyed. I saw him myself," Wes said, his voice tight. "This is another trick. An illusion." He took a step forward. "Isn't it? You're the guy from the armored car, aren't you?"

The robot's hand rose, fingers curling. "Are you so sure?"

"You may have fooled us before, but not this time!" Wes sounded angry.

Eric couldn't blame him; he didn't like having the images of their old enemies used against them this way either. "If you're Frax, maybe you won't mind being destroyed again. After all, you're only a robot," he growled and pulled out the Defender.

"You'll have to hit me first!" Frax's hand uncurled, the fingers straightening into gun barrels.

Eric and Wes dived out of the way in opposite directions as a burst of projectiles hurtled at them. Eric came up to one knee, aimed and fired in one smooth motion. 'Frax' moved faster than the real thing ever had, dodging the blast - but Wes, a few yards away, caught him with his Chronoblaster. The metallic form clattered to the pavement.

Eric rose to his feet and glanced at Wes. They both took a few cautious steps forward. "Huh," Wes said. "Is that it? He seemed tougher than that before."

"I know..." Eric blinked, then shook his head as the brightness of the sunlight gleaming on golden metal seemed to fade, and looked up. Had the sun gone behind a cloud?

"Hey - what's going on?" Wes asked, also looking up.

It was more than just a cloud. As they watched, the sun dimmed into a cold, faint glow high above them. The sky turned to shades of gray and black, roiling with heavy storm clouds, without a sign of the stars. Buildings became vague, shadowy masses looming over them. A thick silence descended around them. Eric shivered in the gloom as a chill breeze seemed to pierce right through his suit.

And when he looked back at the ground - Eric reached to touch Wes's arm and nodded to the empty sidewalk where 'Frax' had been. "He's gone," he said.

"Yeah. Watch out, he'll probably change his appearance again. He could look like anyone."

Both of them scanned the area, instinctively moving back to back in the unnatural twilight, nervously tightening their grips on their weapons. Eric could see no sign of anyone, anywhere, not even the Guardians he knew should be surrounding them at a safe distance. The city felt as cold and empty as if it had been deserted for years.

"Got to find him."

"Down there! I think I saw something."

Wes pointed, and slowly and cautiously they started down one of the streets leading away from the intersection. The darkness seemed to deepen as they moved, the shadows filled with menace - they searched, not knowing who or what they were looking for, or what form he would take.

"This can't be real," Wes was muttering. "The darkness. Everything. It's like - it's like the dream..."

"The dream?" Eric suddenly realized why he recognized all of this. It was his dream. _His_ dream... but Wes's too?

He saw it even as he cast a startled glance at Wes. A movement, two bright spots of light, the glow of eyes coming at them. Eric yelled a warning and fired, the shot going wild as an impact pushed them apart and threw them both to the ground. Disoriented, he sat up and tried to spot their attacker. Wes, a short distance away, was slowly getting to his feet. Silence fell again.

"There!" Wes fired his Chronoblaster, lighting up the darkness with a brilliant burst of energy. It was gone in a moment - but that moment was long enough for Eric to see the enemy. A creature with a mask-like metallic face - long black leather coat - bony fan-like ears - and the fiercely glowing eyes that had haunted his dreams.

"Mirloc!" Eric ground out through clenched teeth. Another illusion, of course - but this one hit even closer to home. Rage dispelled the dreamlike premonitions of dread that had filled him a moment ago. He stood up. "If that's supposed to scare us, it's not going to work!"

"Then maybe _this_ will."

The alien moved again with the same uncanny speed, but this time Eric was ready. He fired - saw Mirloc dissolve into nothing - and reeled as something solid yet unseen struck him. An instant later he heard Wes cry out and saw him stagger back and slam against a wall.

"Can't _see_ him!" Wes shouted.

"Shoot at anything that moves!" Eric spun as something caught his eye, hesitated, turned back, eyes shifting. Another movement - he braced the Defender in both hands and fired, hearing a scream...

"Wes!" he shouted, even as something hit him again, harder, with a jarringly booming impact, throwing him down and driving the air from his lungs.

When his head cleared, Eric found himself lying flat, demorphed, hard pavement digging into his back. He raised his head and looked around - dread penetrating the haze in his mind as he saw Wes, still morphed but unmoving, lying a few yards away. That had been the direction he had fired in - Eric struggled up and tried unsuccessfully to stand as he realized he must have shot Wes. Nightmare had planned well; he had let the Krybots and the Orangehead tire them out and now he had used the two of them against each other. But what now? Wes looked unconscious - he refused to consider anything worse - and Eric wasn't in much better shape himself. He wouldn't have a chance without the power and protection of the suit.

Apparently Nightmare had decided the same thing. 'Mirloc' appeared from the empty shadows between him and Wes, walking forward slowly and confidently. He had a gun or blaster in his hand, the barrel blunt and ending in a wide funnel - and pointed right at him. Instinct told Eric this was no illusion.

Nightmare stopped a few steps away. "Sorry about this," he said in the same tone he might use to apologize for being late to dinner. "Nothing personal, just doing my job."

"Job - for who?" Eric asked, if only to delay the inevitable for a few more seconds. "Did Gruumm send you here, like the Krybots?"

"Oh, please. I'm nothing like those robotic drones. That's why Gruumm sent me to make sure the job got done."

Eric saw a flicker of movement from behind Nightmare. Wes - stirring, starting to raise his helmeted head. Eric tensed; told himself not to move or react or even look directly at his partner. Now it was even more important to keep Nightmare talking.

"You stole the platinum from that armored car. Was that for Gruumm too? Why does he want it?"

A shrug. "Beats me. I just work for the guy; I don't ask questions."

Wes seemed to have recovered enough to take in the situation and had pushed himself up onto his knees, reaching for the blaster he had dropped. Eric groped for something else to say. "Why attack us now?" he asked.

"Gruumm is taking care of Doggie Cruger and the SPD B Squad even as we speak. I guess he doesn't want any Rangers left to interfere with his plans for this planet." The image of Mirloc raised his weapon. "But that doesn't concern you anymore. You two have given me an interesting fight, but now it's over."

"Not yet," Eric growled as he saw a bright beam of energy strike from Wes's Chronoblaster. It hit Nightmare in the back, sending the alien staggering forward, outlining him in a flare of light as his body stiffened and twitched. The alien almost fell - almost, but not quite. As Eric grabbed desperately for his Guardian blaster, Nightmare lurched around and shot back with a blast of energy that distorted the air into watery waves and caught Wes, slamming him into the wall behind him hard enough to crack the surface. With a cry of pain and the warping glimmer of a forced demorph, Wes's suit disappeared and he crumpled limply to the ground.

Eric yelled in shock, fear, and fury, and shot at Nightmare as the alien began to turn back, clamping the trigger down and expending the entire fuel cell of the little weapon in a sparking series of blasts. He had no awareness of how long it lasted - only that when the blaster went dead Nightmare was still standing.

But then - as if a switch had been flipped the sun was back out, almost blinding him with light and warmth. The darkness and shadows and chill and unnatural quiet were gone.

Eric knew he had won even before Nightmare toppled over, turning into a dusky form enveloped in a black cloak along the way, but he had no time or inclination to feel victorious. Painfully he rolled to his stomach and began to crawl towards where Wes still lay, unmoving. He didn't stop when he heard shouts and saw dark-uniformed Guardians running forward, or when he saw the more colorful suits of other Rangers. He didn't stop when he heard Sky's voice, or Cruger's. He didn't stop until he touched Wes's fingertips with his own, and slid into unconsciousness.

- - -

TBC...


	28. Peace

Wes, Eric, and all other characters from Power Rangers belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.  
Anyone you don't recognize is mine.

Rated T: language, violence, sexual content including m/m sexual relationships.

**A/N:** This is a response to the Power Rangers Slash Write 22 challenge, a slash-oriented romance theme challenge. A link to the challenge site on LiveJournal is in my profile.

Reviews are always appreciated.

**Turns in the Road**

* * *

Peace

- - -

"I want to see him."

"I told you, he's fine, he just passed out from blaster shock. You're the one who was seriously injured."

"A busted ankle and some bruises. Big deal."

"You're forgetting the cracked ribs and mild concussion."

"I'll be okay! If he's fine, why isn't he here?"

"Wesley..."

"_Dad_..."

Collins sighed. "I looked in on him as soon as the doctors said you were okay. He seemed to be resting quietly."

"Resting quietly? _Eric_?" Wes sat up in his hospital bed and pushed the covers back, ignoring painful complaints from his ankle, head, and ribs as he swung his legs over the side. "Where's his room?"

Collins stood up from his chair and hovered uncertainly. "You're not supposed to get up!"

"Too bad." Wes struggled upright by leaning on the bedframe and bracing a hand against the wall, fighting off a wave of dizziness and carefully testing how much weight he could put on his injured ankle, which wasn't much. He tried to take a limping step as he glared at his father. "Where's Eric's room?" he asked again.

"Right down the hall. But-"

"I'm going, Dad." Easier said than done, Wes realized as he attempted another step, or rather a hop.

"Wes... You're going to fall. Lean on me." Collins stepped closer.

The idea of being supported by a man who was almost eighty should have been funny, but Wes wasn't laughing. "I'm all right," he said peevishly. "If you want to help, get me some crutches or a wheelchair or something, will you...?" He trailed off as the angry tones of a very familiar voice came from outside the room.

"I wanna see him for myself, dammit!" The door burst open to reveal Eric, wearing a hospital robe and a furious expression, with Doggie Cruger, Sky Tate, and a small group of flustered nurses behind him. He froze for a moment in the doorway while Wes saw relief and happiness fill his face - quickly replaced by an outraged scowl. "What the _hell_ do you think you're doing out of bed!?" he shouted.

- - -

Wes had to admit being back in bed with his head propped up and his ankle carefully cushioned on a pillow was a good deal more comfortable than his attempt to walk had been. Eric had supervised the arrangements, but when Wes had insisted that he sit down he had looked grateful to get off his own feet. Wes's father had taken the other chair, leaving Cruger and Sky to stand. After a minor confrontation the floor nurse had grudgingly agreed to allow Eric to stay, with dire threats of what would happen if he didn't return to his own room in an hour.

Which left them with several questions to be asked and answered in a short amount of time. Cruger had taken over at that point and was finishing up a condensed version of what had happened that day in Newtech City.

"It turned out that Gruumm was using the diamonds and precious metals his followers had stolen - including the platinum Nightmare took from your armored car - to rebuild his ship as a mechanical body for his own master, Omni. Fortunately we were able to destroy it, and to defeat the ground troops Gruumm sent against Delta Base, and to capture Gruumm himself." He bent a look down on Eric and Wes. "Your Lieutenant Miller and her squad of Guardians arrived in time to be of assistance. When we learned of the battle here in Silver Hills, Cadet Tate and I returned the favor. When we arrived we found only what appeared to be an empty street surrounded by Silver Guardians. Nightmare's most effective weapons are illusion, deception, and dreams; he hid the battle from us. It's fortunate that you two were able to overcome him long enough for us to take him prisoner."

"Dreams," Wes said. "I dreamed about that fight before it happened."

"So did I," Eric said. "A couple of times."

Cruger continued as Wes gave Eric a surprised look. "Yes, Nightmare can use his power to confuse and frighten his opponents through their dreams. He put an image in your minds, and then tailored his illusions to match it." He sighed. "I had hoped to keep you out of this conflict as much as possible by keeping contact between us to a minimum, but apparently Gruumm still considered you a threat."

"Damn right we were a threat," Eric muttered. "And what makes you think we wanted to stay 'out of the conflict'?"

"He means this was _our_ fight," Sky said. "This was what SPD was all about. You had Ransik; we had Gruumm."

"He means we're too _old_."

"I mean," Cruger said with an admonishing glance at Sky, "You have fought and won the battle you were given your morphers for. Now you deserve the chance to move on to the rest of your lives, while others take up the struggle against evil."

"You still mean we're too old," Eric muttered, but he no longer sounded angry.

"You, Bio-Lab, and the Silver Guardians have done a great deal for us, from letting Dr. Manx study your morphers to the sharing of your scientific expertise to the political and financial support Mr. Collins has given," Cruger continued with a nod at Wes's father. "It's not much of a repayment, but we find ourselves with five extra morphers since the A Squad Rangers turned out to be unworthy of them. Perhaps it's time for a team of Silver Guardian Rangers - if you're interested, of course."

"SG Rangers... Eric? What do you think?" Wes asked.

"I guess it's not a bad idea." But the eager light in Eric's eyes said more than his words.

"Speaking of teams," Sky said, "I have to get going. There's still a lot to be done in Newtech City to recover from the attack, and I don't want to stick the others with all the work."

"Say hello to Syd and Bridge and the other Rangers for us," Wes said as Sky stepped closer to the door. "And to your mother when you see her."

"Roger." Sky sketched a smiling salute.

"I must be leaving also," Cruger said. "My wife will be waiting for my return."

"Wife?" Eric asked. "I thought..."

"So did I. It turns out Gruumm took prisoners when he conquered and destroyed my home world. Besides Isinia, there are others he used as slaves - enough to start a small colony on Earth or some other suitable planet. They will need as much help as they can get in rebuilding our race and culture. It seems that in peace, as well as in the war that is now ended, there is a purpose to my existence."

"Good luck," Wes said.

"The same, and a speedy recovery to both of you."

As they stepped outside, Collins stood also. "I think I'll be going too. Maybe I'll check in at Bio-Lab to make sure everything's all right - if you don't mind, Wes?"

"Not at all. Thanks, Dad."

The door clicked shut, leaving them with a few moments of silence as Eric sat looking down at his morpher and Wes watched him, wondering about the serious and troubled expression on his partner's face. Finally, "Something wrong?" he asked.

"No. Just thinking."

"What about?"

"This." Eric held up his arm to show the Quantum Morpher. "Maybe Cruger's right. We've been Rangers for twenty-five years. You can't give up your morpher; it's locked to your DNA and we don't have any way to change that. But I can unlock mine anytime I want. If we're going to have a new team of Rangers, maybe it's time for me to hand the Quantum Morpher over to someone younger."

"No." Wes reached out and took Eric's hand, gently pushing his arm down again. "Five new Rangers are enough for now. As far as I'm concerned, there will always be only one Quantum Ranger. And you're it. I can't imagine anyone else in that suit."

Eric's fingers closed over his before they let go. "I guess you're right. They'll need an experienced Ranger - or two - to train them." He smiled. "Maybe Kay Miller would make a good Red Ranger."

"Why not?"

Again they fell into silence, that thoughtful look back on Eric's face as he stared absently at the floor. Wes had a few thoughts himself, some of the same ones that had been on his mind for months, and some new ones. One in particular... After a pause he asked, "Why didn't you tell me you were having those dreams?"

Eric's expression was wry as he looked up. "Probably the same reasons you didn't tell me about _your_ dreams. I guess - we haven't been talking to each other enough."

"And maybe not talking about the right things." Taking a deep breath, Wes plunged ahead. "What happened today made me think. What if one of us had been hurt really badly? The way things are now, the other one wouldn't have any legal right to decide on medical treatment. We might even have trouble getting to see each other, since technically we're not family."

"Yeah, I kinda thought about that too."

Encouraged, Wes went on. "And what if one of us died? What about a funeral, and inheritance, and so on?"

A crease appeared between Eric's brows. "I don't care about inheriting your money, Wes."

"But I want you to have it. And what about Bio-Lab? Dad and I have set up our wills to leave you our shares and full control of the company if we both die, but with so much money at stake those wills could be contested. Things might be difficult for you if some people don't think you have the right to take over."

"If you die things are going to be difficult for me anyway."

"Look, I'm just saying..." Wes trailed off uncertainly.

"What?"

"Well, we could hire lawyers and sign a stack of papers to take care of those things." He took another steadying breath. "But if we got married it would all be automatic. It would just - solve so many problems that might come up."

"If we got married."

"Yeah. I know you don't believe in marriage much, but there's practical reasons for it. You could at least think about it."

"But like you said, there's other ways to take care of the legal stuff." Eric looked up. "Wes - are you saying you want to get married?"

"Well..." Wes met Eric's direct gaze. "Yes. I've wanted to ever since it was legalized."

"Why didn't you say? All this time I thought you weren't interested because you never asked."

Wes frowned and shrugged. "I didn't want it to be a big problem between us, the way me wanting to move in with you was. I didn't want to make demands."

"And you thought I wouldn't care about what you want?"

"No. Not exactly. I just thought you'd say no."

"I guess - again - we weren't talking to each other enough." Eric bent his head so that Wes couldn't get a good look at his face. "You're right. I've never thought much of marriage, and I sure couldn't imagine myself doing it. But I kept thinking about it more and more. All the reasons for it didn't seem to make any sense. All the reasons against it didn't make much sense either. But I kept coming back to one thing."

"What's that?"

Eric looked up and into Wes's eyes again. "I love you."

"That's a coincidence," Wes said after a moment, around the lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat. "I love you too."

Eric continued his steady gaze, his expression unreadable, while Wes held his breath. Then he smiled slightly. "No fancy engagement rings. Just plain gold bands. Okay?"

"Fine with me."

"No stupid traditions, like throwing rice, or bouquets, or garters."

Wes was starting to grin. "No stupid traditions. Done."

"And our names? No hyphenating. You stay Collins and I stay Myers."

"I hadn't really thought about it, but okay."

"No one carries anyone over the threshold."

"I don't think either of our backs would stand the strain, anyway."

"A honeymoon might be okay, though, if you want one."

"A honeymoon would be great."

"All right then." Eric nodded decisively. "Let's do it."

Wes felt vaguely that fireworks should be going off or the earth should be moving or at least there should be a rising swell of music in the background, but there were only the faint hospital sounds of voices and footsteps from outside the room as they sat and smiled at each other. And maybe it was better that way, he realized, with only their happiness and a quiet sense of peace replacing the wanting and wondering of the last months to mark the occasion. But still, there was a small celebration that seemed appropriate. He broke the silence to say, "There's just one tradition I'd like to follow."

"What?"

"Don't people usually kiss when they've just gotten engaged?"

Eric pulled his chair closer and leaned forward, his fingertips stroking the side of Wes's face as Wes raised a hand in a similar caress. "I think I can go along with that one," he murmured as their lips came together.

- - -

TBC...


	29. Commitment

Wes, Eric, and all other characters from Power Rangers belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.  
Anyone you don't recognize is mine.

Rated T: language, violence, sexual content including m/m sexual relationships.

**A/N:** This is a response to the Power Rangers Slash Write 22 challenge, a slash-oriented romance theme challenge. A link to the challenge site on LiveJournal is in my profile.

Last chapter. Wes and Eric have reached the end of their road - for now - and so have we. It's been a year in the making: started on Valentine's Day 2006 and now ending on Valentine's Day 2007. Many thanks to my lovely online beta, MzDany, and my also lovely RL beta, Cecilia. You've both been of tremendous help. And huge thanks to everyone who's read and given feedback; I couldn't have done it without your encouragement and ideas.

Now we have a wedding to attend... Reviews are always appreciated.

**Turns in the Road**

* * *

Commitment

- - -

"It's been a long road for us," Eric said.

"Sure has." Wes leaned forward to kiss him. "A long road... with a lot of turns along the way. But here we are, about to get married."

It was still hard to believe - that the day had finally arrived, and that they were both here. It hadn't been very long as engagements went, only six months, but somehow the closer they had gotten to the date the harder it had been to wait. But wait they had - planning a wedding took a lot of time, as Wes had found out the hard way. Besides, he certainly wouldn't have wanted to have to go down the aisle on crutches, and six months had been barely enough for the last traces of his limp to disappear.

The arrangements had been all about compromise. Wes had wanted a big church wedding with an even bigger reception, while Eric had wanted a simple ceremony by a Justice of the Peace with an even quicker getaway straight to their honeymoon. What they had ended up with was a simple civil ceremony performed by a judge who was a friend of Wes's father's, at a large local restaurant with the reception immediately following. At the moment they were in a small private dining room to give them some privacy while they waited.

Wes was quite willing to take advantage of that privacy. They kissed again, pressing closer together, arms around each other...

"Ew! Jesus, guys, get a room!" When they looked up, the door was open and a tall, slender, good-looking young man with dark blond hair and blue eyes was standing there, grinning at them.

"We're _in_ a room," Wes observed.

"Not this room. Have some respect."

"It's because we're gay, isn't it?" Eric grumbled.

Sky Tate's smile widened. "No, it's because you're _old_."

"Not too old to kick your scrawny butt, morphed or unmorphed."

Wes laughed. "Okay, okay. What's up, Sky? It's not time yet, is it?"

"Not yet." Sky stepped in and to the side. "There's some people here to see you."

"_Now?_" Eric burst out. "Who the hell..." His voice trailed off.

But Wes had stopped listening, as a woman appeared in the doorway. She was older than he remembered - silver threads glinted in the brown of her hair and there were a few unfamiliar lines in her face, but her eyes were as bright as ever and her step had lost none of its spring as she crossed the room to hug him.

"Jen," he murmured. "Jen. It's so great to see you."

"You didn't think we'd miss your wedding, did you?" Trip bounded up to hug him as soon as Jen let go, looking a little more mature but otherwise not much different. Probably his species lived as long as Kat Manx's, Wes thought somewhat ruefully.

"Yeah! It's bad enough you couldn't come to Jen and Alex's wedding." Katie had put on a few pounds, but they suited her. She looked happy and comfortable - and was as strong as ever as she enveloped Wes in an embrace.

"Time Force policy and all. But man, it's great to see you again." Lucas was next, still handsome, hugging Wes with a few manly slaps on the back thrown in.

"Yes, Time Force policy. The same one we're bending to be here today." Wes blinked in surprise as the last person in line to greet him held out his hand. Alex looked even more like his own mirror image, not because his dark hair had begun to gray but because of the warm and relaxed smile on his face. The effect of being married to Jen, no doubt.

"Wow, I can't believe you guys are really here," Wes said.

The others had moved on to Eric, shaking hands and exchanging greetings, as Jen returned to him. "I can hardly believe it myself," she said. "How long has it been?"

"I dunno. How long have you and Alex been married now?"

"Twenty years. Our kids are almost grown, one in Time Force Academy and one in high school."

"Kids? I didn't even know you had any."

"Yes. Two daughters."

"Wow."

Jen smiled at him and then glanced at the other former Time Force Rangers. "Lucas and Nadira were married for a while, but they split up. Still friends, though. Trip is engaged to someone from Xybria, but they hardly see each other and I don't know when, if ever, they plan on getting married. Katie's still single with no kids, but she spends a lot of time with her nieces and nephews."

So much had happened to the people he had once been so close to. So much that he hadn't been a part of. It cast a momentary damper over Wes's mood. "Things sure have changed since the day I first saw all of you in that shopping mall, haven't they?" he said wistfully.

"Yes, they have. And they've changed for you, too." Jen raised her eyes to his. "I only wish I could have been a part of your life all these years."

So she felt it too. Wes leaned closer and said softly, into her ear, "You _have_ been a part of my life. If not for you, I don't know where I'd be now, or what I'd be doing, but it wouldn't be here, and this."

"I really shouldn't be glad to know we changed history," Jen said. "But seeing you so happy today - I am." She leaned in to kiss his cheek.

"Okay, you two, break it up." It was Eric's voice as he stepped to Wes's side and took his hand, the words softened with a smile. "Don't forget who you're marrying today."

"Never." Wes grinned.

Alex had joined them too, an arm around Jen's shoulders. "I guess we'd better get to our table. We'll see you at the reception, won't we?"

"Sure thing."

Wes's father appeared as Wes's former teammates followed Sky out. He looked them over with a quick and slightly nervous glance and said, "The judge is ready. Are you both all set?"

"Yes, sir," Eric said.

Collins smiled and shook his head. "You really have to stop calling me 'sir' now. I'm going to be your father-in-law in a few minutes."

"You have the ring, Dad?" Wes asked.

"Of course I have the ring."

"Damn, should have made sure Sky didn't forget the other ring," Eric said.

"I didn't forget." Sky had returned and was standing at the door. "Don't worry, everything's going to go fine. Everyone's waiting; we should get started."

"So I guess it's time." Wes felt his mouth suddenly go dry, and swallowed nervously. He looked at Eric. "You ready?"

Eric lifted his chin, muscles clenching in his jaw betraying his own nerves. "Ready." He looked more like he was about to face a firing squad than get married.

Outside, they followed a short hall to the doorway leading into the main dining area. Tables had been arranged to leave a clear path to the other side of the room where the judge was standing, waiting to perform the ceremony. Wes poked his head in just far enough to take a quick look around.

Jen, Alex, Trip, Lucas, and Katie had been put at a table with Tommy Oliver and Jason Scott. Next to them was another table with some of the Rangers they had met and worked with through the years - Cam Watanabe and Hunter Bradley, Cole Evans with Taylor Earhardt and the Air Force captain she had married, Carter Grayson with Ryan and Dana Mitchell. There was an SPD table too, where Anubis Cruger, his wife, and Kat Manx were seated along with Bridge Carson, Syd Drew, Z Delgado, and former Red Ranger Jack Landors with his girlfriend. At the wedding party's table, Wes's stepmother Lina waited with Sky's mother Lyn and her second husband.

The music started. Collins put a hand on Wes's shoulder as he stepped back. "I want you to know how proud I am today, son," he said.

"Thanks, Dad."

He turned to Eric next. "And I want you to know how happy I am to have you in the family."

"Thank you, si- uh, thanks, Alan."

"Well - see you out there." With a smile and a nod, he started his slow march down the improvised aisle to take his place as Wes's best man.

"Congratulations, guys," Sky said, his expression completely serious for once. "I'm really happy for both of you." He shook hands with Eric and then Wes as they murmured their thanks. Then he stepped back towards the doorway, a smirk breaking through on his face. "Just wait till you hear my speech," he said, turned around and started on his own walk to his spot as Eric's best man.

"So, it looks like we're really doing this," Eric said.

Wes gave him a quick and inquiring look. "Last chance to back out."

"Not on your life." Eric's eyes lingered on his. "For better, for worse," he said very softly.

"For richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health..."

"'Til death do us part."

Taking each other's hands they held on tight and stepped out into the open, seeing every face turning towards them as they moved slowly forward together. Eric was still smiling as they exchanged another glance. "Looks like we've finally got our happy ending, doesn't it?" he said quietly.

"Are you kidding?" Wes chuckled and tightened his grip on Eric's hand. "This is only the beginning!"

- **End** -


End file.
